By the Woods - Poem
They say that the house by the lake,
Is known by the name of House of the dead.
The day a jackal was sighted out in the lawn,
Was the day the tale began.
This was a lake from which there is no return,
Of that we all are sure.
Perdition, a thing of fantasy,
A look of love never to be passed.
The world that was the family,
Turned when the devil in the body picked an axe.
The fall of reach of the evil,
Was none.
It was encompassing,
Taking with it all that's dear to the possessed.