The Haunted House

I burn in fierce flames of fury and revenge every second.

I remember the tragic scene intact.

It re-occurs and pricks me every night.

Pain....Revenge ....Beyond that!

It was where I spent my early days of childhood.

My parents labored hard to gather every single brick.

I come straight from jail.

I hear the screeching sound of the gate as I open-after two decades.

Noxious plants are grown in the place where a lovely family lived.

I have slayed every person who took my parents away.

Dotted memories take over me in haphazard spins.

The house is no more haunted.

Whispers of Hope