A cordial hostess answers the knocking at her door.
All of her guests enter, despite the haunting lore.
A smile of pure seduction dances on her lips.
A satchel stitched with crimson rests upon her hip.
Some eyes are filled with understanding, other are filled with fear.
Some have found their way home, some wish to disappear.
There is no pain here, but no comfort can be found.
The cries are made in silence, words do not make a sound.
She extends a welcoming hand, beckoning the weary.
Like a refuge from the storm "once upon a midnight dreary."
This is their final place of rest, their home for all eternity.
This bed of misery is where they shall sleep eternally.
The hostess smiles triumphantly, knowing there are more.
Souls are still awaiting, knocking on her door.