Ebon House: Nightmare in a Minor Key   

Foyer

Dust rises from the floor as specters dance in the swirling air.
A shroud of darkness hangs upon chill halls.
The bloody rain beats its barbaric tattoo distantly above.
In dim light, barely can be seen decayed but sturdy walls.
Lacy, age blackened curtains hang before windows with drooping glass.
Incautious breath disintegrates ancient tied brocades.
Wax heavy chandelier lies in the center of the floor.
Sweet musty odors rise from time worn and weakened floor boards.
Such sorrow to see magnificent beauty standing in its own open grave.

Mist L. Reynolds-Main
June 4, 1996

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