The House

"I don't like
this place"
open the door,
glass on the
ground.
Death lingers.
Rot, too,
and fingers
of decay
tighten their
hold each day.

"Let's leave"
around the
corner,
secrets burn
and a once-
beautiful room
falls to ruin.
and the basement
floods with
stagnant water.

"it's beautiful"
though sunken
and hollowed
and chewed
up and swallowed,
and erie darkness
remains. Past
the broken
window panes
and cracked visage,
the shadows of
beauty lurk
for those who really
look to find.