I travel often through darkened rooms filled with mystery and unseen forces.
Doorways appear before me where a doorway never was before.
I am enticed up stairs that lead to unknown attics.
Something is there; I know it, for it ever lies in wait.
I can feel its power transmute to my own being.
A drug, enticing but scaring also.
I often find myself wandering this house in one of it's many transient forms.
It is the same house none the less.
It smells the same
Feels the same
Has the same shadows, haunting, taunting.
I can almost taste what it is trying to hide.
But I belong there
It feels like home
I need to know that unseen force.
But it frightens and compels me all at once.
I find stairways that take me further in and further up.
Doors crash open and many arms reach out to grab and maul.
I struggle to shut the door.
Yet still I know I belong there.
When I look up I hear noises, shuffling.
I am drawn inwards, upwards.
Towards the dark.
When I wander here I come by chance across many new rooms.
They apparently have always been there, but I never noticed somehow.
I have never questioned,
Just accepted - like I always knew.
The house is derelict in parts and dangerous to enter.
In other parts is under construction.
I can look up and see the sky through the wide, dark beams.
Still not questioning
Still accepting
Knowing.
I often travel here in this familiar realm.
Through the rooms, shady with mists and darkened stairwells.
And a force, a power that is yet to be revealed.
A force I feel.
A force I fear
Yet a force I respect
And a force I need to befriend.
Is it evil?
Or lonely?
Or an earthbound spirit haunting this earthly plane.
All I know is that it is real within these rooms.
These mysterious rooms that I often travel and have come to know
And yet may never know.