Do you still feel the thrill on quiet nights?
Do you still feel like stalking those empty passages?
Do you still want to be the ghost that you once were?
Because I know I don’t.
The thrills that we used to get
are now waves of guilt,
crashing against me.
The shrill screams of that little girl still echo in my head.
Her eyes were like stars, burning with purity.
Do you remember how her skin slowly turned white?
Do you remember how we sucked the life out of her,
extinguishing that purity?
Because I know I do.
I can still feel the amount of fear that penetrated the house that night;
and how I slowly turned that fear into my own guilt.
Those innocent faces flash in my head like blinding lights,
being forced on my eyes, burning them.
You know, when it all ended,
it was quiet again.
Like nothing ever happened.
Like those shrill screams were just music.
Like we were just normal beings,
not guilty of that night.
But here we are.
Eagerly waiting on the porch
on a quiet evening;
For more innocents to feed on
and finally take the life out of this house;
Which has stood so strong,
being fed by the fear.
Look, its asking for more.