Dreary Lane

The soughs of wind
The rustles of leaves
The low laughter
The whispers
They are heard in Dreary Lane;
Where they come from
And who they are,
No one knows but them who are
Tainted by dreadful blood of yore
Descents of ghouls, of the dead and more,
The ghostly apparitions in the night
That flits from shadows
Towards greyer shades,
The peepers through the window
A gash on the face
That translates to a smile
A look from grey green eyes
That freezes the soul
They come from the den
Where lost souls growl;
Flitting over the grass
On putrescent air
They visit you when the day
..is gone and gangrenous  twilight reign
In Dreary Lane.