Ghost Story

I, who has not seen her face in ages,
Find solace not in reflections, as they
Do not exist, but, the terror my visage
Creates in those who pass me by.

I, who has not heard her voice in ages,
Find solace not in the still music of breath but
The wails that echo out what once was a throat
And kill passers by with a lethal shock.

I, who no longer remembers who she was,
Or if she even is a she, having grown into an it,
Find solace that still some echo of existence
Exists be it lethal and terrifying to all else.



Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Written on 2025-12-12 at 18:06

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