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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Ghost >> ID #945672 |
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The silent screams of a fallen hero,
echoing down the halls. As night endures the fallen ones, trapped within these walls. Then I see you stand before me, The fire lighting up your eyes. A glimpse of your past for all to see, As tears fall, cast by those lies. Your image begins to falter, as the chaos starts to die. Your soul doomed to live in torture, forever asking, why... why... why?
© Copyright 2005 Byron Quinn (UN: byronquinn at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Byron Quinn has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |