A Haunted house at night

Here is this week's poem, in anapestic tetrameter.

On a dark stormy night I came up to a door
And, wet as can be in that nasty downpour,
I knocked, in the hopes to escape for a time
The wetness and darkness of that cold nighttime.

When no answer I got, that door shoved I open,
And found that abode was not lived in by men
The halls, they were empty and dark as can be,
I thought to abandon the place, and to flee.

Then the thought came to me as I stood in the night
I could either be wet or be dry till daylight,
So I set aside fear and just walked right on in
Never mind that it's dark and that ghosts live within.