… A road in dust, the moon stands still, A letter comes with iron will. No return name, no reason why, Just “Mr. Korbes” — and the night draws nigh. A house that waits where shadows stay, No light, no sound to guide the way. The letter said, “You are expected,” No hint of danger, no words neglected. He doesn’t ask, he steps inside, Who questions fate when doors stand wide? The silence breathes, the walls align, As if they knew he crossed the line. The floorboards hum a warning tone, No step ahead, no turning home. Mr. Korbes walks in — and won’t return, The house takes more than it lets you learn. No verdict spoken, no reason shown, Just wood and stone and a will unknown. Mr. Korbes walks in — wrong time, wrong door, Not every path leads where it did before. What calls your name without a face Does not explain — it just takes place. A rooster waits upon the roof, A silent judge, a living proof. A cat that stares as if she knew, A broom that leans like it’s overdue. One step too far, one breath too late, The house awakens, locks its fate. A falling stone, no final cry, The tale moves on — no reason why. No angels here, no devils near, Just clockwork fear and ancient gears. Mr. Korbes walks in — and won’t return, The house takes more than it lets you learn. No verdict spoken, no reason shown, Just wood and stone and a will unknown. Mr. Korbes walks in — no questions asked, The fairy tale completes its task. What once was called from darkened ground Consumes the name, not the sound. Perhaps this tale knows no remorse, Perhaps it only shows the course. It doesn’t judge, it doesn’t lie, It shows how doors decide your why. Mr. Korbes was here, Mr. Korbes went, No echo left, no punishment. A name erased from time and place, A silent truth we cannot trace. Mr. Korbes was here — remember this: Not every invitation ends in bliss. The rooster sleeps, the moon moves on, The house grows quiet, but not gone. And somewhere, small, in ink and tone, Another letter finds a name unknown.
