The Ghost Poem by Nightmist Moonshade
The Ghost
Here I sit at end of day, the hapless prey.
Cold, malicious eyes follow as i stray.
The soulless beast whence evil from,
Lingering where nightmares come.
Savage from mind's horror,
Demon of my dreams.
Rid thyself of me,
For now I am not quarry.
I've become your enemy,
Your eternal consort
Your demise
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: evil
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8/28/2026 12:55:59 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
