The haunted room was his. The haunted room was always his.
“A haunted room, fit for a haunted man,” they said, and the key hung untouched for months upon the hook, gathering dust and rust, and waiting for the day Topher Weiher would come down into town.
He liked this room, despite its sinister history. The disgruntled spirit of the strange Mountain Man was said to stalk this room, pacing its length with restless strides, unable to sleep, shrieking soundlessly into the gathering darkness like a banshee drunk on the thigh-meat of innocent barmaids.
The window where he stood was far enough from the cold of the river but close enough to hear the roar and roll of its waters. High enough to hear the beautiful aubades of dusk as the sun plummeted from the rumbling skies.
Standing at the window looking up at the red clouds, Weiher missed the days when songs were still sad.
“Some days you can still see him standing there, at the room window,” the town children would say in hushed voices. “The strange man, from the mountains,” they said, and Weiher could never really tell if they were talking about him or the ghost.

Fiends always lurking, friends too busy getting blazed unknowing.
Of the dangers within life’s maze, waiting to make a killing.
Love of money is deceiving cause death don’t take no holidays.
Ya should know by now that these hoes, money & fame will betray.
Lead ya astray but I guess ya need a reminder; call it growing pains.
Jeremy Miller re-runs, re-plays, gotta have a legacy to leave for decades.
These days ain’t guaranteed, could have success but that can fade.
What’s a 70’s show shot in the 90’s without Topher Grace?
Indeed somethings can’t be replaced.
**** gotta have chemistry, otherwise the recipe will have a distaste.
Sour fruits breeds toxicity, becoming overblown till ya overdose cause that **** was laced.
Houses full of Payne, everyday another loss, but the masses gotta stay entertained.
So, with loss comes gains, ***** insane, ignore the corpses & enjoy the champagne.
Like a champ beaten and bruised until they numb to the pain.
Brain injuries cannot continue to be sustained!
But there ain’t no half-steppin’, isn’t that right Big Daddy Kane?
However, without tragedy, what would happen for those like Bruce Wayne?
I know that if I didn’t overcome adversity, I probably wouldn’t be the same!
So, perhaps that is why **** don’t change?
Cause some Climatized to the chains!

Victims to the game.
Always yearning for others to blame.
To justify actions so disgustingly vain.
No different than the nobles & colonists that ***** our ancestors.
Literally creating who we are today;
Intergenerational slaves.
Perpetuating cycles, perpetuating pain.
Victims to the game.