the silence rings through the doors ,
un-sounded footsteps creak the floor ,
The angel lived here once ,
the girl died here last month .

Its like a memory that wont leave ,
the sky showers down water that drips off the trees.
the holy cross touched her mind,
in the room that the angel died .

A shadow in the door way ,
what seems to be a girl appears but doesnt stay .
noone lives there anymore,
just a sprit that only touches the first floor.

everyday that passes by,
the next person who enter will wish she would die.
but she wont leave ,
in the heart of the dark house where she bleeds.