'So,
To the abbey?'
A sound from behind.
'Hezekiah Hawk.'

'Yes, yes, Ezra.'
I turned to him.
He is standing
At the door
To the hut.
Ezra.
A boy thirteen.
A goy he is.
Good joy he masks.
A ploy not seen.
A toy his brain:
He plays a lot.

Steered me a smile,
His pale blue eyes.
And he cuddled more,
In his blanket-wrap.

I went in,
Ruffling his hair
On the way
With my hand left.

The aim.
Not at the abbey,
But at the abode-
David's Abode,
A tourist house;
Uninhabited
For the past years many.
Why?
No one can
Open the door.
They blame ghosts.
And I am a skeptic
Who believe in ghosts.

'Oh my divinity!'
What is it?
My heart escalated.
Over the table-!
No scientific science
Can explain this.
An invisible
Has taken my pen
And jots over a paper.
I walked forth;
Towards it.
At its probable
Position of wrist,
Tried a grab.
As expected,
Nothing happened.
The pen got dropped,
And the text was done-

What do u think is the text?
To be revealed at the next update!! :)