Spirits in this house,

Make unsightly sounds,

Of footsteps on the floor,

The sound of a open door,

Nothing to see,

But I keep my eyes peeled,

For something unreal,

searching for the paranormal,

can’t be normal,

Are there spirits not at rest?

Or is this a sign,

Of my mind’s decline?

Not like a fine wine,

But has become the enemy,

Inside of me?

I hear my name,

But it doesn’t sound the same,

The hair on my neck,

Prick back,

Like I’m about to be attacked,

I hear noises upstairs,

But nobody should be here,

sounds of somebody coming down the stairs,

Is what I hear,

It comes near,

It feels cold,

Like a chill to the bone,

I hear get out in a dreadful tone.