It
resides within a darkened corner
At the
end of a lane where few dare to tread
It had a
store name but now it’s faded
Its windows
are as black as a mourner
There’s
no way to see in: Step through the door.
But it
only opens at the dusk hour
Once
inside it smells of a dead flower
And the
shadows dominate by the score
There’s
no kid friendly stuff within these halls
Only the stare of demons and nightmares
Of a
thousand murderers. And the gaze
As faces etched
with fear scream from the walls
When you
leave it’s quick: Sprint back up the lane
But the store
knows that you’ll be back again
11th April 2012
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