Haunted House

Creeping into the dead of silence

In the chalet of no sheen

Sounds heard of only my footsteps diving into trundles

Did the master really aim to be mean?

Stretching towards the knob

Utterly baffled by the coming ulterior's sight

Abruptly, when wide the door bobs, into the dorm

My eyes bathe the only light

A flush of alacrity guides me towards the spark

Holding my fingers inches close to the candle

Brushed across my mind, the thought mark:

"Where was the one who caused this scandal?"

The slow contact flooded me with warmth

Simultaneously appeared the predator behind his prey

Not a muscle could I move under the fathom

Instantly, the hogan swam, illuminated, with glowing sunlight

And so, sang my predator: Happy birthday!

I blew the candle on my cake

'Mean' was not the master's description

My predator, for this day, was merely keen

But I should say, that this should not revive- no, for heaven's sake!