Books are food for the mind. Poetry is food for the soul.

Haunting.

Following me,

desecrating me.

I search,

looking feverishly for an escape.

There is no escape.

 

Ghosts follow, not far behind.

Ghosts of memories, of a past.

Why must I have been fooled into thinking they were gone.

That I myself, at those particular times, had disappeared.

Never again shall I be fooled into such thoughts.

Never again shall I be dissuaded by those that have not seen,

and, therefore, do not believe.

 

Mysteries held in the night surround,

shielding me from the ghosts.

I call, I plead for help.

But, the rain drowns out my voice.

 

Rain still falls around me.

Dark shadows are hiding in the mist, unable to be seen.

My head pounds, alerting me that fear is extinguishing my senses.

My heart quickens when I hear slashing.

Then, no more.

For now, I am lost.

Forever to be followed, by the hauntings.