House on the Hill
Two souls larking in the dark; waiting, yearning. Forever confined inside the corridors of a house long abandoned. The house on the hill. But could it be that this is us? Haunted by memories and hopeless dreams, it might be that sometimes we entrap ourselves within their realm and become numb; helpless, unable to escape. These desperate longings can very well chain us, imprison us, making us shadows of our former selves. Ghosts eternally damned within midnight blue-black walls. The House that stands on the hill is but a shallow grave, a hiding place for the ghosts that we make out of ourselves.