Fall of the House of Will

Vincent Moore


We wept while looking upon

the ruin before us, this horrible

misplaced scene, the bleak walls

that danced with demons shadows,

upon the cracked and gray windows

that we peeped through in fear.


Afraid and trembling as Bill staggered

up our street in a fog of disgust, drunk

with the power he knew he had in his

House of Will.


The cold cracked asphalt outside,

had no soul, no heart, nothing for us

to compare to the agony and utter

depression or earthly sensation we

all felt as he drew near to the

front step.


Like the hideous stench of his aura

that approached this house, it gave

one a sinking, disgusting, sickening

feeling in one’s heart, an icy feeling

up our spines, seeing child like hairs

on our arms dance with fear.


Our dear mother knew the demands

that would crush her, the minute Bill

walked through his House of Will,

her dreariness of thought wore her down,

she was but a tool, a plaything for him

to abuse, and with no mercy he would

goad her soul, torturing it with delight.


This night like others in the House of Will

would instill fear, hatred and anger as well

revenge into the souls of his victims,

my mother, and my siblings five could not

hide, he would search us out and bring us

to his sacrificial altar of abuse.


This demon, most times had a neurotic

obsession with alcohol and sulphuric undertones,

and wanted to exert his power over the weak

and timid in the House of Will. Nevertheless the

mental disgrace that befell this madman had no

asylum clearly close enough to white jacket and

keep him there for good.


So the pendulum swung in The House of Will,

cutting our souls, tearing at our fragile young minds,

repeating deeds of intricate deviation and scorn.

An intimacy that left its scars so deep with oppression,

that young minds were ushered in with uplifted arms,

as angels sung their welcome through Heaven’s gate.


© Copyright 2014 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved




Fall of the House of Will — 4 Comments

    • Alexandra I’m happy to read that you enjoyed entering my world of mystery. I believe there are many of us out there with familiar chords being struck and plucked by others. I am happy to read when I stir someone else’s soul along with my own.

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