I see the flames and hear the echos
Ghosts of the past, now rendered gone
The walls crumbled down, the foundation cracked
They say a man died, maybe there were more
For I don't think they were counting souls
They ask who's to blame for this failure of a gecko
Only looking for answers fast, trying to make a discovery before the dawn
The only evidence left is a crown, for nothing else can be tracked
And yes a man did fry, but it was for the untold lore
This case is a mystery, one that will surely turn men into Ghouls

Home is where your dog sleeps on the couch
Or on your bed
Or wherever he wants

Home is the smell of familiar foods
On predictable days
And the sounds of familiar snores
At predictable times

Home is where you can have pizza and a cookie
For breakfast
Popcorn for lunch,
and pancakes for dinner.

Home is where you know where everything is
Tape is here,
A ladle is there,
And rain boots are in the hall closet

Home is where you hear
Familiar creaks in the floor
and
Slams of the door

Home is your
nest
den
cave
habitat
sanctuary

A house is a home,
But only if one makes it so.
In a home,
You can drip emotion,
Free of care or conservation.
In a house
There’s no lack of protection,
But the loneliness becomes an infection.

I have a house,
But I want to make it home.