Ghostly Poetry My Familiar Haunt This is a somber confession, to you I bestow; How I pace here quite often when my spirit is low. And when the dream-tides pull in the ghosts of the sleeping, And I know that no other soul is somewhere peeping, I wander about, in black shade and in dark shadow Hoping one night to vanquish this dull and cursed woe. I assure you this grief is no mere melodrama; My inner halls are without any candelabra. Standing before the black, sullen pond and pondering; I shut my eyes and let my tears fall—conjuring. The reflections of my many torments do gaze back; Wailing of affections that my heart shall always lack. Now, in this time and place beyond the cold shades of night, I endeavor to escape the grim grasp that is tight. It feels as if no soul can hear my implorations; Here I fall to my knees—my lightless lamentations. Indeed, I am bound to this dismal purgatory Where my mind has become a ceaseless mortuary. I confess all of this with a glum and guilty heart, And thus always endures my dreary and dreadful art. As my breathing grows shallow, and my heartbeat quite slow, This forlorn and forsaken place, one night you shall know. Return to Ghostly Poetry Next Poem Previous Poem

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