by Nick Gisburne
The spirit hunter prowls the halls at night
And with her strange devices scans the gloom
Reactions rare as these disturb her sight
The focus of the force: a single room
She shivers, knowing she will be the first
The one to prove the shadow realm is real
Domains of darkness, by the ancients cursed
Will show their secrets if she breaks the seal
The evidence is clear and does not lie
A seamless door, a simple, sacred sign
Beyond it dwell the demons all deny
Her instruments are certain: there are nine
They strike, with tooth and claw, again, again
And drag her ghost within - they now are ten
