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Up and down the hallways
the dead drag their
rusty chains behind them,
there are ghosts in our midst,
the voices in the night
scream out in pain.

The pain of the past
tries to reach out
from beyond the grave,
the walls bleed,
the anger within the ghosts
is truly unbelieveable.

The torture these restless souls
must have went through,
being chained to walls
and beaten to death,
being murdered in the darkest of night.

Voices in the night
cry out in pain,
the smell of rotten flesh
lingers in the air.

The smell of death
resides inside the casle walls,
it makes the stomach churn.

They moan...
they cry...
they scream...
while their lives are
being stolen from them.

Copyright Cynthia Jones
Apr.15/2004