Haunted House

I stand before a darkened doorway
Stairs before me rise.
Windows flanking on either side
Like square, accusing eyes.
No one dwells in this house now.
The walls are bare and cold.
The people who used to live here,
Have long moved and grown old.
Although no one has died within,
There lives an inhuman host.
Memories and dreams that linger on,
Have since become it's ghost.
Echoes of children's laughter,
The very essence of life.
Peal down the hallways,
Piercing the silence like a knife
While your'e in you feel it.
Nothing ever dies.
The wood that creaks beneath your feet,
Are the house's tired sighs,
A house like this can't be replaced.
New is not neccessarilly good.
The energy of the people who have come and gone
Lived on in the rotting wood.

Lornay sent this to me today, she's been through my house a few times, she feeds the ferrel cats of my neighborhood and initiated a program of capturing and nuetering.
(I give this location wide-berth!_)

"My Insanity is well-respected, until they wiggle free and become a stringer for a tabloid"