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Tags: Ghost, Horror, Death

Another piece from my Poetic period many years ago.

Submitted:Feb 23, 2010    Reads: 84    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   

A ghostly shape appeared one night,
Amorphous, pale, composed of light.
I let it move about my house.
It scurried softly as a mouse.

When all at once it turned to me.
Frightened, scared I wished to flee.
It held out-stretched a pale white hand,
I took it, it was soft as sand.

I heard it speak, no mouth I saw,
It said, "Hold on," and we did fall.
Through the floor, though earth and stone,
Praise be, I was not alone!

It showed me graves, Gentile and Jew,
We looked in mausoleums too.
The tombs of kings and common men,
The message clearly struck me then.

Every human, small and great,
Each will die, that is their fate.
To turn to dust and back to Earth,
It is predestined from their birth.

I thanked the ghost as we did roam,
And asked him now to take me home.
"But we are home," he just replied,
"Don't you know that you had died?"

"Dead?" I asked, "How can this be?"
"Look at yourself and you will see."
I peered down, aghast with fright,
Amorphous, pale, composed of light.


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