The eternal wanderer of the nights,
Walks in the skies, with his half-lit lamp.
Silently, the black sea watches with its watery eyes,
Atop the nearby dark, accursed hills.
A lonesome house stands; quiet or dead since long,
Colours of the walls faded forever; into nothingness.
Haunted, ruined remains of bricks and cement,
No doors, no windows; no owner, no tenant.
A hundred seasons, have gone by silently now,
And a hundred more shall; unnoticed, unwelcomed.
There was some story, as to why the house is so,
Yet even the winds have forgotten, those sad songs now.
I stand at my window and watch it,
Every day and night and wonder about it all.
And then I know, as I do everytime that,
I am the sea and the moon ; the haunted house ?
It is just my reflection in the mirror !!!
