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In the Stillness of the Night
David Edward
The house where once was laughter found Stands lost, in moonlit lustre caught Her shutters marking sacred ground Her life no more from windows wrought. Yet, in the stillness of the night Some distant voice that chills the air Brings talk of supernatural rite Where creaking footsteps tread the stair. Hushed whisper from a candle flame A sputtered light from waxed fašade Reflecting eyes of dubious fame In faded portraits, sombre, marred. On spectral wind drifts ghostly yowl Its lurking presence listless falls In corners, where the shadows prowl Pressed tightly to dark rancid walls From hound the merest whimper came An answer to some fledgling fear: Gaunt branches rapped on window pane Bring eddied sense of tension near. That place, set high up on a hill Amongst the solemn graves of old Traverses nature's starkest will To build on hopes of former gold.


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