Theres a house in the middle of no where.
It sits aways back from the road.
Children are afraid to go near it.
It creaks moans and it groans.
Its empty still and quite.
The doors are boarded up tight.
The windows shattered and broken.
Inside its as black as the night.
Weathered gray where the paint has cracked peeled.
The rest is no longer white.
The porch is sagging and broken so the steps they dont line up quite right.
The garden once filled with such beauty.
The roses they no longer bloom.
Now full of dead weeds and spiders.
Like the surroundings of a crypt or a tomb.
The walkway is no longer visible full of dirt and broken up stone.
The rot iron fence that surrounds it is bent rusted are gone.
Dead vines entwinded the bars now where green ivy once did grow.
When the moonlight stricks it just right.
It has such an ominus amethyst glow.