Ghosts call her name in the dead of night.
Night brings a chill and creepy shadows.
Shadows hover over all the walls -
Walls of cobwebs laced with sorrows.
Sorrows fill the rooms where time has left no trace.
Trace the flow of blood, how it dried over time.
Time left no trace, but all the knives left clues of blood.
Blood flowed freely through the quicklime.
Quicklime or burnt lime, used to dissolve gruesome deeds of evil.
Evil lurks like dust that gathers on iron rust,
Rust on hinges that creak and moan –
Moan like ghosts, swirling in the dust.
Dust fills the gaps between the bodies and boards.
Boards divide the bodies by spaces.
Spaces mark the time between heaven and Hell.
Hell remains the kinder of two places.
Places designed for torture are rare.
Rare "Chambers of Horror" are rare finds.
Finds of a shrunken head amongst the toys or bones,
Bones left by ghouls who often gnaw on rinds.
Rinds, or integuments, are savoury skins . . .
Skins relished by civic cannibals.
Cannibals oft’ bury remains in their basements.
Basements are a treasure trove for remains of cannibals.
