Alone in a Haunting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic


Truth comes veiled in the ancient mystery of prophetic dreams.

Submitted: November 23, 2017

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Submitted: November 23, 2017

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Ghostly, yet true, this is some of the best poetry I’ve written because it came to me in a dream and I feel an eerie conviction that it’s a cryptic message about a real person, but I don’t know who or where. A sprite was motioning for me to peek with her behind a Death’s Chair Toadstool. When I did, she whispered in my ear saying “Alone in a Haunting!” Then she disappeared and these macabre stanzas streamed into my brain from sparkling dust that was raining down like mystical snow from the shapeshifting rim of the huge psychedelic toadstool.

Go back home Miss Lindsey

don’t stray yourself afar

Your mama’s cryin’ for you

Your brother’s dead in his wrecked car

Go home Lindsey

Don’t stray yourself afar

Your papa’s in the graveyard

Your mama’s by herself on the cold gray farm

All alone on the family farm

The darning needle’s idle

when there’s sewing to be done

Go back home Miss Lindsey

You’re lost and on the run

Go home Lindsey

You know there’s sewing to be done

Your mama’s cryin’ for you

By herself on the cold gray farm

All alone on the family farm

The grass ain’t gonna be greener

On the side you’re lookin’ on

The Devil’s layin’ for you

Sweet Lindsey please go home

Go home Lindsey

Turn away from Evil’s charm

The Devil’s trickin’ for you

Get to the safety of the cold gray farm

Go on home before you come to harm

The moon turned blood red Lindsey

the night that you were born

The midwife kept the secret

‘bout the birthmark on your arm

Go home Lindsey

You’re a flower on the sacred cairn

The ghosts are calling Lindsey

Calling you back to the cold gray farm

Go on home to the family farm

Angel’s dirge of death

Echoes in the wind

Go back home Miss Lindsey

There’s time before the end

Angel’s dirge of death

Echoes soft in the moanin’ wind

Prophetic shadows omen

Better get back to the cold gray farm

Sacred path is the family farm

Freight train whistle blowin’

Seeds grow where you sow them

The watchers follow Lindsey

They’re closer all the time

Get back home Miss Lindsey

Your life is on the line

Your mama’s hoping Lindsey

There’s hope at the cold gray farm

Hope gives life at the family farm

Your soul is yearning Lindsey

Spiritual alarm

Your destiny is written

In the birthmark on your arm

Your heart is winding low

Passing over slow

A haunting murder of crows

Corn dollies hunt the cold gray farm

Your mama’s alone at the family farm


© Copyright 2018 Sean Terrence Best. All rights reserved.

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