Cynical Ways & Debts To Pay

Beautiful victorian home.
Walls made of stone.
Outside a lions gate, & lovely bench.
Roses blooming, window overlooking the garden.
An old woman stands, hands clenched.
"Well I beg you pardon!"
Grabbing the laughing, children by the arm, immediately smiles gone.
"No running in my house!"
The old woman manged to choke out.
Feeling faint. She just let them go about.
Knowing she would no longer have a say.
She began thinking in her darkest ways.
To be remembered in her last days.
After so many years in this forsaken place.
Tortured & maimed. Playing their games.
Forced to rememeber countless names.
She wanted to take the blame.
The glory & the fame.
Her whisper,"Now I've heard the bell and I know what it shall tell for you once show me my true hell.."
The possessed & obsessed.
Her memory running thin.
Patience, breaks & bends.
She's come to her end.
Mind alive not knowing how to fend.
Her mind like buzzing static.
Leading child by child to the attic.
Old Miss Munro. Dying old & alone.
Found dead in her bed on death row.
Does that not mean her soul does not roam?
Back to the old Munro home.
Every essence of her left among old stones.
The cellar uncovering hidden bones.
Ghosts coming to crumble your heart of stone.
Suffering two deaths, then assuming hell is next, buckle up and pay your debts.