So, Friday has rolled around once again and today I am doing my own thing, no silly , no ranting, plenty of spooky.
It is a poem that tells a story.
If you want funny, don’t worry plenty of that in the archives and I will be back Sunday or Monday with more silly.
In musty abandoned halls we roam
Reliving the hell we brought on ourselves
Chained by past deeds too awful to tell
Trapped here and denied eternal peace
We roam these halls most days alone
With eyes that stare but cannot see the light
And wail out our misery in silence
We can no longer touch the things we love
We can only be tortured by their ever-present memories
And, although, sometimes in company we may roam
We can only pass each other and are denied recognition
Then our cries turn into shrieks as we damn our fate
To be granted eternal life to live in misery