Some places speak distinctly.
Certain dark gardens cry aloud for a murder;
certain old houses demand to be haunted;
certain coasts are set apart for shipwrecks.
When inklings of foreboding disperse,
Instinct dulls the colours all round,
Fear taints nature’s beauty,
And trepidation turns all things gray.
But sometimes there is nowhere left to go
For while intuition prosecutes choice,
Desperation will defend.
And feelings often lose to circumstance.
Maybe if you add a positive spin,
You’ll change these hues of sickly green
Maybe within the shadows of skeletal trees,
Lies a realm where beauty runs free
Maybe if you tend the dying garden,
Life will come back to this place.
The first night is always hardest
The floors creak
And the plumbing groans
The corridors wail
And shadows creep
Nothing is familiar
Everything is daunting
The horrors of rebuilding your life
In a place you thought you’d never be
A place empty of emotion
And yet not devoid of potential
So what, if the floor creaks
The memories of your children playing,
Will embellish your every step.
Why not turn those groans and wails
Into the music of new beginnings.
Knowing that Perspective will judge your case,
Be sure to done a positive face.
Haunted looking house
How misunderstood you are
Meant for happiness
With some paint and loving care
Bad tidings birth new beginnings
I almost wrote this as a horror but something positive steered me different.
Draw silver linings and open the windows of potential.
Stay safe everyone, stay loving.