The Ghostly Figure

The shadows are growing deeper,
Cast by the light of the moon,
Like a doll in a black casket.
I should think I am losing my mind.

Though you are not here, I see you.
What are you doing?
Are you lost? Am I?
Where are you going? Come back.

Why are you so dirty? So bruised.
Was it I who did this?
Was it I who hurt you so?
I wept, more than I wish to admit,
But it was my own doing wasn’t it?

I cannot remember. All I know is you’re gone.
But are you? For I still see you.


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