By Charlotte Pitt
Shadows crawl along tattered walls
Scrapes embroider window panes
Silent Shrieks ring out inside these hollow halls
Lights flicker as they whisper
They whisper to the dead
They whisper to those
Who are trapped inside their head.
Though you cannot see them,
They can always see you.
They are there when least expected,
They watch you in your sleep.
No one has ever known
What has happened to this place.
Because no one ever leaves.
