Exploring houses,

Psychic investigator, Knows, allegedly.

Until swimming out of depth, To the poltergeist’s sleek chest.

Abandoned old house, Equipment set up, alone, Without any faith.

Fraud, for books and fans, faithless, Until dusk’s sweet stench simmers.

She waits for nothing,

Expects nothing, voice then comes, A whisper inside.

Sneakily the volume peaks, Spreading around her, calling.

Hypnotic deep voice,

Eerily comforting, dense, Summoning her mind.

In a daze she follows, lost, In halls of nothing, drapes move.

Mesmerised she moves,

Following seductive tones, Climbing sweeping stairs.

Wandering far from her base, Further still to enclosed rooms.

Rooms checked in the light, Unlock in the dark, calling, Interlocked, woven.

Dusty rooms, covered shapes loom, Shivering, she cannot fight.

Following the voice,

She opens glass doors, as told, Peers over the ledge. Gulps at her life’s precipice, And keels unwillingly forth.

Feather falling hard,

Into the murky abyss, With an elegance.

Disbelief’s bright elegance, Motionless heart still seated.