Terror Night with Me; The Ghost

in poetry •  6 years ago 

The night was unusually calm
The sound of the owls’ crisp clear
The pain started to throb
My pillow soaked the stains physically clear.

The silence too much, nothing to hear
Holding the pillow so close, the end so close
Trembling to hair, the sound intense
A human shadow so close!

Pain turned to crisp clear, blood drips oozed
From the bed I crept, warm blood on my neck
Blood socked the ground, no drip I could hear
Beneath blood soaked.

Stuck there I stood, face to face with a ghost
Engrossed I was, my breath the only sound
Face to face with a ghost
One big eye, a torch I thought.

My mouth was dry
My shouts only I could hear
My clothes so wet
The ghost was me!

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