The Terrors of Wistalos

There was a Wraith

out on the pond water,

a figure still, dark, 

howling and warped.

The shadow came 

with a steed of smoke,

a beast eyeless, grey,

lost and crying loud.

The Wraith, the Wraith;

pallid lipped and

blue veined, hanging skin.

It's blood long stopped

of warmth and flow.

Castiflis treads slowly

through lily and reed,

quivering from dread,

abandoned and sad.

The Man of Not stumbles 

in dank muddy waters,

flailing, clawing,

suffering it's heaviness.

Castiflis, O' royal Castiflis;

teary, golden eyed and

summer rose haired.

His blood rushing on

with vigor and fear.

The Wraith is piercing

through watery veil,

and walls of toad's moss,

full of clay from below.

It's ears are of a bat's,

sweeping low on

black velvety wings,

listening, waiting,

for heart beats in the mist.

Castiflis is but bone

sinking in muck and vine,

tangled roots, rotting oak,

snake and turtle's homes.

His breath is of a gale,

hard whispers between

the leaves of cattails,

gasping, quaking,

for the safety of the shore.

The Wraith, the Wraith;

woe he who becomes 

his own nightmares.

O' Castiflis, Castiflis;

you must escape this!

Such a terror of the flesh.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I loved how you used the language.
"Castiflis is but bone
sinking in muck and vine,
tangled roots, rotting oak,
snake and turtle's homes."
The above lines I liked and I had to read the poem again. You made the reader believe and see every word. Thank you dear Anna for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Relic]

This is written very well, but I have one question: what is a Castiflis ? I can find no definition in the dictionary.

[Anna]

Castiflis is the name of a man whom I dreamt.

[Relic]

I see. Maybe you could put that in the author's notes so no one would get confused. You write really well. I enjoyed it. :)

[Anna]

I prefer to be a little cryptic haha. But thank you for your thoughts on my piece.

[Sami Khalil]

Wonderfully scary and pertinent. Good descriptions with clues. Highly enjoyable.

[Sami Khalil]

"There was a Wraith
out on the pond water,
a figure still, dark,
howling and warped."

[Sami Khalil]

"The Wraith is piercing
through watery veil,
and walls of toad's moss,
full of clay from below."

[Sami Khalil]

"The Wraith, the Wraith;
woe he who becomes
his own nightmares."

[David Evans]

Are you f*****g serious?! This is amazing! "Woe he who becomes his own nightmare"? That's something I would imagine hearing from Faulkner or Greene, but I never did, so thank you for picking up where they left off.