Of the unfrequented storeroom br Opposite the unlit kitchen which br You inevitably face while making br Your last drink for the night br Two unseen eyes staring at you br From the room that seems to br Have become the hideaway for cantankerous spirits br Of the uneasy silence at early dawn in a forlorn br Lane near an accident spot which had br Claimed a life, his soul crying out for br Aids to fulfil his dreams in this world br Of the minutes in a quiet moonlit night br When the bus had stopped right in the shadows and br Gate of a vacant house which you know is haunted br Of the disturbed sleep in a small hotel br Where your bed faced a bathroom which seemed to br Harbour someone constantly looking over you br Of the swing in a lonely park br That moves and creaks in the winds at midnightbr br john tiong chunghoobr br