An object succumb to silence from an alley of dark void,
Fouls air flowing through an old wooden window,

Fear expressing itself on the face of an old woman sitting into a rocking chair,
One finger ***** by her cushion needle
when utters a verse of old riddle,
Reflection from the moon through dusty curtains,

And the sound of a rushing wind swiftly disturb
Something flowing in the misty air looking to be settled

Trapped to an object of affection,
A gift the child find infatuated
Doesn’t breath and no eyes to see
No trace of heartbeats pounding,

Hollowed look and strange eyes rest in the hand of a little girl
standing at the doorway with a length of hair blowing in the misty wind,

A metamorphic grandma have seen
The child utters ‘’you are in a dream’’
Slamming windows and banging doors,
The frighten child scream
And dropped a strange looking doll on the floor,

A prayer whisper from the old widows lips
With a thick dark cloud  forces the sun to eclipse,
Only to lit a candle stick, she spoke ‘’pick up the doll my child’’

Foot steps ascending from the wooden floor beneath
And the child was nowhere to be found,
The silence patters with an heartbeat

A leaking pipe dripping softly from the other side of the silence,
Up the stairs on wooden floor
are heavy steps from tiny feet’s,
The turning sounds of an open door,
there stand a doll with hollowed creeps