The Vanishing Man

Kind of an old-timey horror story i wrote for fun. let me know what you think

I heard of a man, who silently goes,

On the deepest and darkest of nights,

To the graveyard. Why? Well, nobody knows,

He can always evade their sight.

The police will occasionally see him there,

In the dark and pouring rain,

But they've never caught him, he can't be snared,

His abilities riddle the brain.

Now, some say he's a grave-robber, in it for cash,

Or a psycho who does it for fun, 

But ne'er has been heard a maniacal laugh,

And nary one grave has been dug.

I was caught out, with my awful luck,

One exemplary terrible night,

And without my umbrella, it suddenly struck

Me that i wasn't so bright.

I wandered, head down, to the first tree i found,

With nature's full might overhead,

And there, by a flash of lightning, was bound

To my place with a horrible dread.

I saw him quite clearly, in spite of the rain,

Walk with an old-fashioned stride,

'Till he found one particular, senescent grave,

Where he lifted his hat and reclined.

In a quick flash of lightning he vanished from view,

He dropped with the rain and my jaw,

And beyond what logic will ever disprove,

I will always know what I saw.

Through these many years I have often thought back,

To how frightened I was as I ran,

And I know why nobody ever will crack

The case of the Vanishing Man.

I once dared return to that ghostly grave,

Where the spirit escaped me too,

But time has purged many words from it's face,

I could only decipher these few.

"'Tis the good Mr. Black whom we bury to-day,

Whose feet would never rest.

His only wish was that in some way,

He could still wander the town he loved best."

Reviews

[whispereversolightly]

Quite the powerful read and write. Tis is very good, I love the rhyme scheme and flow.