The Hunting Game

In the shadowed woods where whispers creep,

Lies a secret dark and deep,

A house that stands, long forsaken,

By horrors bound, the cursed awakened.

Truth or dare, the children play,

In the moon's pale, ghostly ray,

Dare they tread where spirits roam,

Into the haunted, forgotten home.

The door creaks open, slow and wide,

A chill runs down as they step inside,

Cobwebs cling to walls once grand,

Now held by death's cold, clammy hand.

Voices echo, thin and frail,

Tales of sorrow, whispered wail,

Eyes unseen but felt so near,

Breathe the scent of ancient fear.

In the mirror, faces loom,

Specters drawn from the past's dark gloom,

A dare becomes a deadly game,

The price of truth, eternal flame.

Hands reach out from shadows deep,

Dragging souls to endless sleep,

The final breath, a silent scream,

Lost forever in nightmare’s dream.

Truth or dare, a choice once made,

In haunted halls where memories fade,

Echoes linger, a chilling plight,

A warning whispered in the night.