Far into the forest where the crippled creeks wept,
Where sweet springtime fades with promises unkept,
A rotted cabin sat under gnarled arms of trees, wheezing its final breaths in autumn's breeze.
I was too young to turn back in fear as the ache of curiosity pulled me near.
Traces of rust where hinges fell left doorways to gaping mouths of hell.
Shards of glass like shattered bones lay in the musk of time's ripe decay.
O, but in deafening silence it seemed I still could hear the floorboards scream.
Every step within those walls left me longing for an otherworldly call.
The ghosts of the woodlands forever roamed every crooked nook and crack of this home.
Entranced I stayed until the black of night seeped into the corners of my long abandoned keep.
And its spirits trailed my steps as I walked away, promising to return again someday.