fauxcroft

I hear a whistle of the wind

Along the abandoned corridors

Of this old deserted building

With is tired and tattered walls and floors

And furniture is discarded and scatter around

I the eerie creaking as well as other sounds

And this building is in deep lament about it’s fall from grace

And you can feel the spirit energy

All around this place

And the memories of the grandeur this place had when it was new

Has now turned to rust a dust and various dirty hues

And this building you can feel it

Is breathing its last breath

And their is no sadder site than a once vibrant building

On it’s very last legs

And no matter how painful it is

No one chose to beg

To save this run down building

Though it’s architecturally blessed

It’s been left neglected to go to rack and ruin

Who h is why it’s on this mess

But as I scoured within it’s walls

I also sensed the smell of death

And read a plaque that told me the only way out of here is via death

An institution for the criminally insane

Who were warped and compassionately totally bereft

So I made my mind up there and then to leave this place of torment

But as I tried the doors were locked

And despite all my shouting and crying

For someone to come and rescue me

This wasn’t going to happen

My phone went dead and suddenly things began to happen

Whispers of insane voices and shadows

Started to surround and envelop me

And soon I realised I was to share these spirits

And this run down buildings painful misery

And disappeared into the realms of deathly invisibility.