the haunt

tiptoe down the aisle
between the marbles white,
swallow down your heart,
stay soundless in the night.

finger tips that graze
fine letters carved in stone
cold pulse that lives within
cold heart that lives alone.

trample over fears
of life beyond all death.
troublesome it sounds,
your quick and restless breath.

the moon decides to hide
your voice where silence reigns.
footsteps that trail behind
echo down the plains.

your eyes refuse to close
with shivers down your spine.
your trembling knees now yield,
your courage in decline.

the marble stones glow white,
see my darkened silhouette
what you witness tonight,
you shall never forget.

T. E. Pyrus

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