Preview edition — Poet of Chilling Shivers is still in progress. The poem is as it appears in the video; the commentary is a working draft.
On midnight's watch, I faced the screens
Where silence whispered in haunted scenes
A mansion cursed, with shadows deep,
And crime's dark secrets bound to keep
The cameras flickered, a ghostly tune
As iTunes played beneath the moon.
Its lullaby pulled me into a trance,
While shadows seemed to shift and dance
A sudden beep, a jolting sound
My wrist alerted: movement found
Four teens had wandered into the halls
Playing their games where danger calls.
With careless laughs, they sought to hide
Unaware what loomed inside.
Through twisting walls, their echoes rang,
While something darker softly sang
Upon the screens, it came to view
A faceless figure, cold and true.
Its jagged smile, a cruel disguise,
Hunting the children with hollow eyes.
The house awoke, alive, aware,
Its walls began to breathe the air
Doors slammed shut with a wrathful groan,
As if the house claimed them its own.
I grabbed the radio to warn them, but no signal went through.
I raced to find them, but instead,
The house was still—a home of dread and thorough
And there it was, a crimson mark,
Scrawled on the wall, beneath the dark:
Stay AWAY OR join the game
Then laughter rose, both sharp and grim,
Not child nor man, a spectral hymn.
A haunted house, playing games of hide.
Lives on with a tale of shadows and seek
Poet of Chilling Shivers · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
Told in rhyming couplets, this poem watches a haunted house through security screens. The rhyme makes the horror feel like a nursery game gone wrong, a mood that the wordplay on hide and seek in the title sets up.
On a night watch the speaker faces “the screens” in a mansion “cursed, with shadows deep,” where a ghostly tune plays and a “sudden beep” signals movement. Four teens have wandered into the halls, laughing and playing “where danger calls.”
On the monitors “a faceless figure, cold and true” appears with a “jagged smile,” hunting the children. The house itself wakes: “Its walls began to breathe the air,” and doors slam shut “with a wrathful groan.”
The speaker grabs a radio but “no signal went through,” and races to the children only to find “a home of dread.” A crimson message on the wall offers a choice, followed by laughter that is “Not child nor man,” before the poem closes on “a haunted house, playing games of hide.”