Rotting Ghost
There is a ghost in my walls,
wailing and weeping.
He creeps like mildew,
consuming the bones
of my home.
I see him in my reflection,
his eyes glow with
cooling embers of life.
2 thoughts on "Rotting Ghost"
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Love the ending!
Goodness! Reminds me of the “hungry ghosts” in the teachings of Tibetan Buddhism. I too love that ending.