Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors





It was a place no one would go, many horrible tales had made this so. Some would look away as they passed through the glen below, afraid to cast a glance at the foreboding mansion that sat upon a mountainside, shrouded by an everlasting misty fog. In disrepair it seemed to hover there like some gargantuan ogre, a harbinger of evil.

If asked, few if any of the villager's would recall the gray-haired old lady that was housebound in the antique mansion up the mountain slope. She was lost in memory to passing generations, but if some brave soul was foolish enough to search the village archives, they would find a manuscript written many years ago. A tattered bit of parchment that bewitched any pitiful soul with curious eyes. It began and ended with a verse, more would not make it better or worse.

It came every night in the witching hours,
Something bad with deviant powers
Unseen until the last midnight it came,
So ghastly it could have no name.

The ancient house gave off a groan
As the old woman waited alone,
For many years very late at night
Her trembling body shook with fright.

It roams the halls into every cold room
She knows it will come for her soon,
She has never seen this evil from Hell
But she knows it's there all to well.

From the fiery bowels of Earth it came,
This demonic devil with no name
To possess the home of the aged widow,
Flitting through rooms casting no shadow.

Most foul sour odors it leaves behind
As it does deeds of the unholy kind,
The air chills as it flits here and there
Stripping rooms, laying them bare.

Screams fill her frail body with terrors
As it darts around shattering mirrors,
She is driven half-crazed with fears
Then a cold-blooded voice she hears.

At last upon a stormy midnight hour
She became a victim of it's power,
It came from the wall, passing through,
Screaming! "Old woman, I've come for you!"


Whispered rumors of the old lady's fate yet arise at a certain time of year, but the awful truth has never been clear. It is murmured by a few old-timers that on Allhallows Eve Just at the stroke of midnight, a light can be seen moving from room to room in the shunned old mansion. One true thing that is less clouded than ever before, no one is ever going to knock on that door.



©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 10-28-10

Song title: "Devil"

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