Ghosts of the Past

It's about these people from the past who are disturbing my now peaceful life.

They are the ghosts of the past,

restless souls.

Dead hands reaching out,

no time to hide or fall.

I was screaming for help

but you were so far away.

"Run my angel, run!”

was all you could say.

 

"Reach for my hand

‘cause it's here where you belong.

If you hear them call

just close your eyes and sing our song.”

 

Starless night over disturbed graves

                Of buried past and dead promises,

Darkness spill over whispering leaves,

broken epitaphs, and withered roses.

 

We are the ghosts of your past,

                 restless souls.

Haunting every night

                under your bed, we crawl.

 

“Sweet darling come with me

and live forever.

Turn your back from him,

I promise you’ll never suffer.”

 

“Take my hand

                ‘cause it’s where you belong.

You will be mine

                I know it won’t be long.”

Author's Note

At first it was not my intention to make it a "dark" one. But it ended that way. *Sigh*
It always happen!

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

I can relate to this. Yet, while I have felt what this piece describes, I also see a different side to perception that you scribe into ink. Sometimes, distances can't be helped. And much of the time, what one person perceives as darkness trying to encroach upon a current situation. They may also be the honest one's that are trying to keep another out of danger.

You bring an interesting view to life here.

Aaron

[Viet Pham]

I really enjoyed reading your poem, you are a really good writer and I hope you will continue writing stuff like this. Who cares if they turn dark, it's more fun to play with the lights off anyway.

[....]

relatable write, enjoyed reading