I had a ghoulish thought last night,
as I lay in my haunted house.
A hundred twenty years of fright,
embedded in these walls.
My ghoulish thoughts, they were of death,
when will I go, where will it be?
Will those I know become bereft?
What lies out in the dark?
We all have such thoughts now and then,
you know you do, now please don't lie,
the fear I feel, I won't pretend...
the thought of the unknown.
Worst ghoulish thought, how will I look
with empty eyes and greyish skin?
These ghoulish thoughts are like a book,
that I don't want to read.
Where will I go, upstairs or down?
Or will I be a ghost right here?
Within these walls, I'll scream, no sound,
that might be worst of all.
Death now, my preoccupation,
as I grow older every year,
restless nights, imagination,
they keep me up at night.
In the day, sunlight and flowers,
help to keep these thoughts at bay,
in shadows deep, my darkest hours,
death robs me of my sleep.
|