(Words in whispers)
Ghosts that haunt the halls
step more firmly on their nightly wanderings
than I may dare to shape a thought.
I snuff it faster than that ghost
can rumble “What is it, my Dear, you really fear?”
I ask the ghost shyly in return
“And what is it, Sir, that you are haunting for?”
“I sinned,” replies the ghost with fearsome mien.
“I never spoke. I only dealt the blows and
murderd one so fair and good
I would not share her worldy shape.
I would own all or not let her be.
Allthough she was free, she had to die.”
She died in my arms with fear in her eyes
with the last sigh her smile did return as
her freedom returned from my obsessive attention.
But I was to be a slave to my deed
So I continue to search a way of redemption,
which I found not in life.
But the only one that could give it
was killed by my hand.
I found no consolation and I never will
Damned is this soul forever to haunt.”
I am not afraid of this monstrous knight.
He is dead and gone, only his guilt remains
to halt him from embracing rest eternal.
I want to live without such a regret and
when I die my soul will be blessed.
@EvB
Elizabeth Van Brooks 