Wraith-Ghost Poem by Patti Masterman
Wraith-Ghost
The place still murmurs
Her name down low,
A breathing space hangs
Like air; the wraith-ghost.
The shocking moon harmed,
With its piercing rays;
Her fair heart rebelled
Against such excess ways.
No recompense was found
In earth's delight; all gone,
All gone, the enraptured
Countenance sleeps on..
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4/18/2024 6:23:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
