The Haunting

Misty breaths in spectral-puffs
Invade the crisp night air
Torchlight feeds the darkness –
Eerie shadows, flickers, then dies
Despite three, brand-new batteries

Cold-comfort is the icy form that melds
With mine, caressing by the empty cradle
When judged against the darkened force
Oppressive, aggressive, resistant
Nonexistent to all, by the tall cabinet

And who would cry upon the stairs
For the simple matter of climbing the stairs
To find upon reaching their peak
The deepest pit of despair
In thin air, nothing there, but the past

Then a door opens, silently, unexpectedly
Repeatedly, when gently coaxed
While all remnants of warmth ooze from the room
Degree by degree, ten in all
Inexplicable, but measurable

Walls whisper, gravel crunches underfoot
Watched
I go.

Copyright Diny FvK


Ok, so this one is based on a real experience at Michelham Priory in Sussex, UK – known to be one of the most haunted locations in England. I am a bit of a magnet for weird but, this was the first time I had actively sought it out.

If you like my poem, please share :)

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