Haunt.

I hear the creaking of their steps along the hallway floor

I know the squealing of the hinges on every single door

I see the skeletons at night when I'm alone

Dancing to the tick of the mantelpiece clock, the ringing of the phone

A sad and mournful dance they dance,

In pairs, one by one, spinning circles in the dust upon the floor

And while, at first, it's a rather terrifying sight

Their creaking bones, their evil smiles

I've come to find I enjoy their dances night after night

I do not fear their eyeless gaze

Nor the dusty bones

Nay, what I fear the most of all

Is the day I return home