Dust collects in cobwebs,
spiders abandon, rats roam,
rule the once magnificent mansion,
as feudal patrimonial lords.
Funds turn into private fun,
water leakages, wastages, abuses of sorts,
the constant beat of tribal war drums,
structure in constant neglect,
beyond repair and care.
The walls have cracked,
strange scripts in collapsing roof,
reveals the shimmering shine of half moon.
The scene has frightened and threatened
many talented tenants and even kindred.
They all see the house becoming haunted,
ghosts and jins fly around,
wailing day and night,
innocents thrown out of tower,
blasts into smithereens,
rob or murder in open streets.
To either hell or heaven,
the cry for justice turn louder,
in this haunted house,
no longer called a home.