Haunted or Guilty
Creaking floorboards
The whispers all around
The guests arrive
But don't hear a sound.
Silence is endless
But the movement isn't distant
Heads turn to you
Still they do not listen.
Night moves forward
With wind breaking tree limbs
You stay awake
Spurring on the paranoid whims.
Cold floors in quiet
Hands reach out for you to take
One wrong step
And a tumbling death is your fate.
