[A/N: This is the updated version of my poem, "Ghost". If you want to view the old version, please PM me. I do hope this version is better. Please feel free to rip this to bits.]
Elegy of a Dead Man
I am but an illusion –
Without appearance; without shape,
Unseen, forgotten and frozen in time
Hidden within the night’s dark cape
I am but an illusion,
A wicked and dark silhouette
A faint shadowy semblance of fear;
Death’s macabre marionette
I am but a willful soul who
Defies the last bitter hour’s embrace;
A spectre of vibrant life once lost,
But no force on earth can efface.
Breath once had entered my crimson lungs,
Now my face is ashen and pale
Blood flows in shriveled veins no longer;
My body is stiff and stale
My chest conceals no thumping heart
For I am empty within,
My bones crackle and creak and snap
Beneath my withered skin
Here and gone at the same time,
As ever-present as dark-hour’s mist
For I exist no longer; I am but thin air,
Neither light nor shadow has gist
A sail without bearing, cluttered in confusion;
Ceaselessly wandering far and near
In this never ending darkness of despair,
Even the Devil’s voice becomes sweet to hear...
