Shutters hang defeated, at the mercy of the wind.
Rain soaks through the swollen beams,
Dark emptiness mirrored in blackened puddles,
Rats slump across the slimy floor,
Skeletal weeds cling and crawl along the walls.
Through splintered slats the tempest spirits howl,
Tattered cobwebs brace the corners;
A final winding sheet; the end of pain and struggle.

There is no echo
For there is no voice,
Pray the battering storm,
But in the darkest shadows,
Where no-one looks,
Stares a frightened fearful soul.