deepundergroundpoetry.com
A ghost
There is an alley
In the black of night
All is calm and quiet
An individual strides alone
His long coat wisps
To and fro as he walks
The crunch of his leather boots
Resound from beneath his heavy form
A hood hides his face
And gloves his hands
His demeanor is menacing
His breath is exhaled in loud rasps
The moon overhead
Is partially hidden
A bird swoops low
Its screech echoes on and on and on
A cemetery is passed
It is overgrown
And the headstones
Are weatherworn from times untold
At the far end
A whistle seems sent
It is carried in the wind
In mystery and forboding tones
At the sound
The individual stops
His gaze peers from bent crown
His eyes blaze with fury from far down
He whispers in foreign tongue
Words that carry weight
And depth
And death
They were exhaled with purpose
With the destination sure
With damnation as intent
With ashes the result
His words found its target
In blazes the recipient glowed red
In intense heat the victim died
In pain he breathed his last
Our character cast off his hood
His face was gaunt
His eyes hollow and black
His teeth were sharp
He shouted in triumph
In a loud and deep voice like thunder
His hatred had found retribution
His black heart, revenge
He lifted his arms high overhead
His robe slipped off
His skin shown tortuous scars
They ran deep and long
The scars glowed red in the moonlight
His skin turned blacker than coal
His gaze went from hollow to dead
A wind blew and in a cloud of dust he disappeared.
His tale is done
No more must be said
His ashes were carried to the four winds
His life was bled
In our lives, we come across
His ghost from time to time
And in similar spirit,
Breathe in his ashes and allow him to live once more.
In the black of night
All is calm and quiet
An individual strides alone
His long coat wisps
To and fro as he walks
The crunch of his leather boots
Resound from beneath his heavy form
A hood hides his face
And gloves his hands
His demeanor is menacing
His breath is exhaled in loud rasps
The moon overhead
Is partially hidden
A bird swoops low
Its screech echoes on and on and on
A cemetery is passed
It is overgrown
And the headstones
Are weatherworn from times untold
At the far end
A whistle seems sent
It is carried in the wind
In mystery and forboding tones
At the sound
The individual stops
His gaze peers from bent crown
His eyes blaze with fury from far down
He whispers in foreign tongue
Words that carry weight
And depth
And death
They were exhaled with purpose
With the destination sure
With damnation as intent
With ashes the result
His words found its target
In blazes the recipient glowed red
In intense heat the victim died
In pain he breathed his last
Our character cast off his hood
His face was gaunt
His eyes hollow and black
His teeth were sharp
He shouted in triumph
In a loud and deep voice like thunder
His hatred had found retribution
His black heart, revenge
He lifted his arms high overhead
His robe slipped off
His skin shown tortuous scars
They ran deep and long
The scars glowed red in the moonlight
His skin turned blacker than coal
His gaze went from hollow to dead
A wind blew and in a cloud of dust he disappeared.
His tale is done
No more must be said
His ashes were carried to the four winds
His life was bled
In our lives, we come across
His ghost from time to time
And in similar spirit,
Breathe in his ashes and allow him to live once more.
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