The Phantom Door

Upon a door ghost's throbbing bangs unfold, 

Who enters here is cold in sobbing's fire, 

Come gentleman in dire be now so bold, 

Where rote in fear is pitch by sounds attire. 

What throng despair is this in scene's relief, 

A phantom's haven in belief this night, 

Where Raven Horror in a howling brief, 

Does raise a told of darkness in this fright. 

Yet sightless Ghoul of terror stirr's such more, 

Than dread in core fantasms in harks blight, 

To echo in night's clangs upon harps door, 

And be a vassel to a grave soul's might. 

So banging tat raves at the entrance hall, 

Till Raven near haunts in this psychic call!