An empty shell of what once was –
Empty hallways, abandoned fairways,
Shells of buildings, car bodies littering the roads –
Leaving the abandoned town soulless and hollow,
Cold to the outside world,
As it is empty on the inside.
It’s a backwater ghost town
Forgotten by most
And remembered unwillingly by some,
Leaving their memories of what was
To fill the cracks and crannies here.
What happened is something nobody speaks of,
Dark and horrific,
Happening to the best of people.
The eeriness of this town,
Made more so by overgrown parking lots
And gutted buildings that look soulless,
Just a shell of a town,
Seeps into you and grabs hold.
Left to be taken over by the elements,
Left to be forgotten by those who once loved it,
This ghost town is no longer on any map,
Fallen off the radar long ago,
As though whoever once was here
Left without a second thought.
The dark energy hopes to tie you here.
Stumbling upon it by accident,
I have found in it something old,
Something with a hollowed spirit,
And shadows dancing
With the memories of yesterday,
Dark and yearning,
Chaotic and helpless.
Nothing is here,
Yet a pressing feeling suffocates me.
Between the crumbled ruins of once grand buildings
Littered along the cracked and cluttered streets     
With burnt out street lights hanging dangerously low,
Surrounded by nothing,
Ghosts of yesteryears appear and fade in the fog
Whispering about the time that was,
Reminiscing about the dark days.
As the broken spirit pulls me in,
The memories of yesteryears fill the empty spaces
With the booming past of this town,
Of its richness and color.
Just for a moment,
The dead town comes to life,
Booming and vibrant,
As though memories of tomorrow are forgotten,
Shining and living for a moment.
Before tomorrow is remembered,
And yesterday is forgotten.
This is a ghost town once again,
Rotting and left in sacrifice to nature.
In its place is the draw of darkness,
Teasing and tormenting.
Fading ghosts whisper in the fog,
Begging to be heard.
There is a story to be told,
However dark it may be…
The grey rubble of broken down buildings
Are a stark contrast to the fog.
Overgrown crossroads and a railroad
Lead dark paths through the ruins.
Hoarse whispers call to me,
Taunting and cruel,
Punishing.
Yet, I resist the pull,
The call of the darkness,
Its yearning to come and play.
I just listen,
Allowing the memories and whispers to guide me,
Filling me with their stories and past.
I close my eyes
And open myself to the memories,
An open flow of communication,
With an equal amount of temptation…
Darkness has tainted these memories,
A darkness that pulses and comes to life,
One that inhales evil and exhales despair.
A memory of a face,
Alive and dead, side by side.
The face in a mask of horror alive
Is tranquil in death.
A hand wrapped around her heart,
Ripped a hole savagely through her chest,
Left alone in the cold to rot.
I am lost within myself,
Following down this path laid out
By the darker forces,
Dragging me down.
When I finally open my eyes,
Nothing’s changed,
But I am not the same.
An energy crackles through my veins,
An energy that wasn’t there before,
And it is more powerful
Than anything I have ever felt,
Pulling me deeper into the town,
Almost as though it wants to keep me here
Drawing me in…
… I am a shell of the person I was,
Drawing energy from the town,
Hollow and soulless,
Empty of all else,
But an energy that has entered me,
And a soul that has possessed me
Filling my veins and lungs with a new life,
Anchoring me here
In a down that has died
When its prisoners escaped,
And its past is no more…
… Except in my heart
And it has replaced my spirit.

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