Eerie feelings here,
As the buildings lay unused.
The paths here are empty,
And the flowers dead, unmused.
And inside the manor house.
Where a hundred dead still lay
Underneath the stone floors
Bones left from decay.
You can feel their eyes.
As if theres a million piercing your soul.
Etching in their pain,
Wanting it to consume you whole.
Β©Odd
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Just a some what "odd" girl, living in what feels like a glass box. Hello Opuss, the savour of my sanity. my little private world amongst a life of being watched and watching.
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