The House

The House so busy

The House so full

The House full of people

The House is Haunted.

Through its corridors I pass

An eerie wind blows by

The doors and windows rattle

The house- a silent solitary lass.

There's darkness all around

The people- asleep or dead?

The gentle moonlight streams forth

And illuminates those laid

Bodies mutilated

Centuries of oppression

They breathe, these bodies

But are they alive?

Towards dawn

A phantom figure

Does his rounds

Through the unending corridors.

A quest for something

Power, Knowledge, Immortality?

Drives this phantom around

A lean shriveled figure

Can't properly see, can't properly hear

It remembers the golden days

When it ruled over the bodies

That now lie at the maze.

I am awake- not the body

I can see- not the Phantom

Then who am I?

Silently observing this haunted house

I see dead people walking

And working in the world at large.

Bodies shout

Bodies cry

Bodies try to live

A normal life.

But I watch and think

Is it possible

For the bodies

To ever live?

The Phantom has sucked them dry

Used their lives to live his own

And though weak, he still rules.

Will it ever end?

I see the Phantom

Trying to regain his lost kingdom

And still command mastery

Over those bodies.

No living thing survives in this house

Plants wither, animals die.

But the bodies go on working

And old Phantom King reigns

This Palace of Ruins.