Enthralled in visions, I tread alone
Where whispers linger, breathes unknown,
Shadows dance in on wall and stair
Visited by They, who are not there.
In empty halls and attic rooms,
Their essence lingers, softly looms.
The veil between the here and gone,
Is thin where somber spirits spawn.
Oh, cursed sight that rends the veil,
To realms where sanity doth fail,
The veil is torn, the edges tear,
‘Tween life and death, ‘tween here and where!
A sigh, a murmur in the night,
A flicker at the edge of sight,
They brush against my living’s skin,
Reminding them of what’s within.
My mind! My mind! A fractured maze,
Haunted by their restless gaze,
A gentle touch, a phantom stare—
Their eyes, like burning coals, do glare,
One day, too, I’ll wear a shroud,
And join their ranks, with death endowed
In death’s cold clutch my soul will hail
Another haunt to pierce the veil
Is it madness, this sight I bear?
Or cursed gift to see them where,
Others see but empty air,
I descry They, who are not there.