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The Tale Of A Forlorn Spirit
In the depths of the night,
The wind whispers with fright,
A tale of a spirit so forlorn,
whose presence is felt every morn.
Its eyes, once filled with life,
now gaze with a haunting strife,
Its voice, a mournful melody,
reaches out from the afterlife,
eternally.
It roams the halls of an ancient abode,
where shadows of the past he bemoans,
The memories of a love long gone,
And the pain that lingers on.
The sound of its mournful sigh,
echoes through the halls so high,
A warning to all who dare to pass,
of the love and loss that will forever
last.
The spirit haunts this place,
with a sadness time cannot erase,
A reminder of a love once bright,
that now dances in the desolate night...
© Charles Kemp
The wind whispers with fright,
A tale of a spirit so forlorn,
whose presence is felt every morn.
Its eyes, once filled with life,
now gaze with a haunting strife,
Its voice, a mournful melody,
reaches out from the afterlife,
eternally.
It roams the halls of an ancient abode,
where shadows of the past he bemoans,
The memories of a love long gone,
And the pain that lingers on.
The sound of its mournful sigh,
echoes through the halls so high,
A warning to all who dare to pass,
of the love and loss that will forever
last.
The spirit haunts this place,
with a sadness time cannot erase,
A reminder of a love once bright,
that now dances in the desolate night...
© Charles Kemp
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