Creepy, spooky windows that blindly stare Hide the tale of the girl hung by her hair. No death tale is without misery or torment Especially when bodies are torn and hell sent.
Months, days, years, maybe centuries ago Time has no meaning when the evil does blow. Outside the rain-soaked sky torn asunder By sharp, bright lighting and heavy, rolling thunder.
Through the dark woods the trees did bend And the message was clear that they did send. To the peeling jaundiced house with no eyes Came one innocent and two full of lies.
Two men chasing, cursing, trying to harm Into the house all ran, the fear in her raising alarm. All through the mansion the spirits did wake Eager to devour and their hunger to slake.
Innocence beware, it does not always preserve For sometimes the dead choose not who they serve. The evil, the sinful, the blackness, the foul Cast forth the subservient with a screaming howl.
The two in pursuit were wrenched into shreds By the gruesome, the wicked, the hideous, the dead. Screaming, wailing, cursing, and in despair Went the attackers down the long, bottomless stair.
Having made her escape to the very top floor Her long braid swinging behind was no more. It was snatched by the arms of the brass coat rack Wrenching the innocent girl around and back.
In her previously benign hair she did become tangled And over the landing railing she found herself dangled. Choking, clutching, legs swinging in convulsions The innocent girl died amidst ghostly propulsions.
So stay at a distance from the house with no eyes Or meet with death, I tell you no lies. Out of the house’s reach you must linger To prevent a joining with the Grim Reaper.