Haunted Nursery Rhyme III
Past rusted gates and lichen stones;
Over blackened dirt and loose bones;
The crypt awaits the curious
And the morose and serious.
You saw it standing quite forlorn;
Leaving your dear heart rather torn.
The door thuds open—leaves scatter;
You seem scared—what is the matter?
Enter not should you be afraid;
For within, your new bed was made.
Here we are, upon this hillock
Disregarding the ticking clock.
The voice whispered, and you did heed;
Your destiny rests here, indeed!
As their gaunt arms pull you inside;
Your screams resound; for I had lied.
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