In the Eighth Street

Photo taken from: https://www.flickr.com/photos/53983435@N02/4997568627

No mortal has ever wandered to go near,

Even rats left this fortress of abundance,

Robbers have packed their loads and ran off.

Only plants of all sorts crawl in the banisters

Of forbidding stairs leading to dimensional doors.

Ruins of mysterious exodus confront minds to beware,

Ghostly music of an orchestra with the humming of the breeze

Is the background of the unearthly site,

That circles in the Eighth Street.

Rumors, myths and legends of adjacent streets

Have occupied minds of individuals

About the historical grave that lies in the Eighth Street:

Scientific beings approach the mystery,

An epidemic had occurred and killed the fate of shattered bodies.

Others seize the mystery as a bloody war

That departed the street, doomed with shaken walls,

Along with fallen houses and bridges.

But the truth was hidden in the mansion of Morley.

A mansion emerges itself in the midst of the street,

The Herodotus who knows the history of death.

Weird as it because it is still standing beautifully

Against the pillars of the clock tower that ticktocks.

How fascinating the big clock still moving grandly!

A flash of circular light appeared with violence,

Upon entering the enormous door of gargoyle palace.

The mansion has its own breath of life

Brings back the time of unsolved disappearance.

A scene of a grand party was the first to strike the eyes;

Twinkling lights from chandeliers filled the room.

Noise of the incessant laughing of signors and signoras,

Dressed in black tuxedos and fine golden gowns

Was heard in this accustomed Sunday night,

Accompanying the soft music of harps and violins.

A great cheer had been signaled by the old Morley,

“To the happiness and enjoyment of all that will start at midnight.”

Sound of glasses was rhapsody to everyone’s ear.

As the moon reaches its horizon and the clock tower dingdongs harshly,

Signifying that midnight had come already…. BANG….

Bullets were rapidly assailing with speed of thunder and lightning

From the terrace of great pain and despair,

Splash of dripping blood stained the white curtains,

Glassware were thrown with panic of death,

Shattered corpses lie against the broken glasses on the ground,

A carnage had befallen… stole the throbbing of every heart!

No one has survived the massacre of living record.

Outside the graveyard mansion of Pegasus’ dream,

An explosion wrecked the site of splendors,

Giving a twinge the eardrums of awakened civilians.

People have reached the zenith of panic,

A stampede of feet and voice had inhabited Aphrodite’s castle.

Fading away till the breeze of departure was smelled by the nostrils.

The only one left was fear itself of the ghost of the enduring past,

Held together in the memory of the witnessed soil.

It was a nightmare on the Eighth Street!

No one knows who’s the killer that won the ace of heart.

The saboteur responsible for the malicious deaths.

No one tried to… afraid of the spirits of Morley’s mansion,

Frightened to discover the truth behind the brick walls.

No fingerprints, no details, no witnesses, not even signs

Can answer the heinous crime of the buried century.

Police has no fitted key to unlock the closed door.

But did you ever wonder how could I tell exactly

The story behind Morley’s mansion in the Eighth Street?