The Visitor

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Resting within my mausoleum,
Though resting, hardly had I done
For all of these days, years come to pass
For I know not just how long.

Somewhere, lost across a sea of time
An echo murmurs back the word, "hello"-
A word I had sent out into the dark,
Oh, so achingly long ago.

A single whisp of firelight twinkles
Against my cold stone case.
A warm gaze falls upon my bones
And, then, upon my face.

T'was then, I discovered the blessing of sorrow
When sweet escape from it is offered
As into my tomb, she cautiously walked.
Cascading those steps, like water.

I've been looked upon in death by the rich, the brave, the feared, and the lonesome-
One visit and one visit alone has rendered the entirety of my being immobile.

Immobile in my morbid stirrings. She roused me from the dark
A stale state, wrapped so tightly within
The primitive horror: Death's mark.

I beg of her, don't be frightened of me
Gruesome an image, though I may seem.
For my translucent flesh is token, at best
Of my longing gained in death's dream.

TO BE CONTINUED

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 22 ⏰

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