Black House Of Morbid Aberrations

Lonely decrepit dark houses weeping atop the hill of foreboding silence. Creeping black atrocities of serpentine nature writhing and coiling around its fetid infrastructures. Slowly treading its distraught grounds i am filled with dread as i walk. Festering Phantoms present themselves in sycophantic obsequiousness, their shadowy writhing talons scratch the surface of my sanity. As Things go awry I howl in terror as my sinews are torn limb from limb, while foul portraits of bygone antiquity begin to leer at my presence. Malodorous hands rise from the fissures of the creaking floorboards,its oleaginous malignities dragging me as i descend further down to the fathomless depths of the cold dark cellar where i will cease to exist. Trapped in lonely isolation in derelict hopelessness, surrounded by animate antiques of morbid curiosities, the arising of mocking cacophonous ticking of the spectral grandfather clock beneath fills me with petrifying fear from its malevolent midnight chimes. Sorrowful creaking from its monolithic black window unfurls, brazen chains behold themselves as I cling on to my last bit of sanity before im impetuously pulled within  times sinister grasp, effortlessly attempting for my escape all was done in vain. Time waits for no slave ,i become the corpse in the coffin, a slave frozen in time, entombed in brazen chains and filthy grime.