A candle-lit room with black decor...
Footsteps over a dusty floor...
Howling winds strike here and there.
Tension fills this musty air.
Empty for a hundred years...
The doors are locked by fallen tears.
No one ventures in alone,
Not here, in this place that stays unknown.
For here, long ago, there was committed a sin.
Blood stains the walls the mistress slept in.
No holy force can erase the cries
That linger in the house of lies.
A beauty was she, all dressed in white.
But beside her was a horrid sight.
T'was her suitor, dressed in velvet so red.
Against his will, they were to be wed.
Though her love for him was very strong,
He did nothing but do her wrong.
For days she cried up against her wall.
But to comfort her, he did nothing at all.
He pushed her much too far one night.
Instead of pain, she chose to fight.
Her frail body was battered and bruised.
But she did not cease, afraid to lose.
But alas, he slumped down to the floor.
Her foe had fallen, he threatened no more.
Nothing could be heard, except her breaths, so clear.
And she cried as she turned away, 'I love you, my dear.'
But her cries stopped as she felt more pain.
She had wasted her strength all in vain.
For he stood holding a blade through her heart.
'Goodnight, my love.' And he ripped her apart.
To this day she wanders that lovely house,
Searching for her treacherous spouse,
The one who never treated her right.
Her soul searches every night full moon night.
So she remains there, still in the house of lies.
Every night you can still hear her cries.
But her husband remains, searching for another bride,
To add to the home where lost souls reside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem