the ghost

an urge to run sets in
the will to fight has faded
but the knife remains sharp

no escape from the wrath
unperturbed by death itself
righteous fury rages on

from the dark corners of the crypt
i can hear your voice once again
the haunting echo of a forgotten past

triumph is near
witness the grand finale
you have sowed, i must reap

those words formed under the blanket
black magic carved into pristine skin
the spell has been cast


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