It lingers in this house.
It's inhabitants feel It.
Anyone that steps foot in this house feels It.
It lingers like a storm cloud.
Its dark wispy fingers curl around peoples souls.
It does not devour.
It simply takes hold.
The inhabitants of the house are subject to It.
It controls them. It plays with them.
It loves them.
It can be friendly.
It hates them.
It can be friendly.It can make
everything painful go away.
It then takes everything we thought was good away.
It makes you crave it.
It has only one purpose.
And It does It's job well.
It turns into a companion.
It can help you sleep.
Knowing It's there to protect you from anything else.
It Only Wants Us.
No one else can have take us from It.
Not unless It dies.
Sometimes we want It to die.
Sometimes we could not live without It.
It lingers in this house.
I can feel It watching.
I can feel it holding me.
It is a darkness.
It is a depression.
Sometimes I hate it.
And sometimes
I love it.
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