The Haunted House Upon the Hill

Left upon the hill in ruin, aged beyond its years in count,
stands a house where terror reins and nightly screams of horror mount.
Ne’er a soul has lived there since long before the paint has peeled,
yet ghostly apparitions drift in shadows and throughout the field!
Its windows blank and broken softly glow at midnight’s call,
while screeching cries of mourning echo through its vacant halls!
The organ in the parlor stands as relic to its richer past,
yet late upon a full moon night maniacal chords come loud and fast!
Behind the dreadful music, between the ghosts at window’s light,
beneath the mournful screams of grief an evil laughter fills the night!

Oh how it sets my heart to shudder! Oh how my fears recoil my skin!
Oh how my bones in terror flutter and chase me back to home again!

Ne’er a living a soul has witnessed, for those who’ve gone have not returned,
for once within its halls and doorways the living flesh is taken, burned!
Yet some have claimed a glimpse in daylight, when quiet the house seems to resplend
a calmer tone of living, a relic from an ancient wind.
They claim the claims of rotten horror, when through the vacant windows seen
the blood upon the organ keys that softly growl, low and lean.
They claim a cackled cat sits by the marble stairway’s rotting rail,
they claim its eyes glow red with fire while guttural moans transcend to wails.
They claim above the mantle sits a portrait of a frightful man,
whose eyes are wild and vivid, whose sneering grin states, “Off my land!”

For those who’ve made such claims, they say, have placed the miles twixt them and here,
for not a living local soul will claim they’ve seen much more than fear.

High upon the hill of fright stands a grand and ghoulish sight,
where horror bends the midnight’s air and feeds a terror to those who stare.
A haunted house of huge proportion, a portal to an evil space,
a house whose iron fence gives notion that nothing should we dare displace.

So in the village all abide to steer away, to steer aside and never bring a question,
never try to reason why, but grant the hellish mound our fears and to our curious minds, deny!


Filed under Halloween, Poetry

8 responses to “The Haunted House Upon the Hill

  1. Possbly the best holloween scarey poem ever!!!! 😀

  2. Kelly Nehls

    We absolutely loved this one!

  3. Thank you for choosing to follow my blog. Blessings, Natalie 🙂

  4. Pat Tomnay

    This is scary!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s