Phantasm's Farce

There I am, staring you in the face,
an inch away,
but you can’t see me.
Eyes glaring with glazed over malice
and discontent.
This cacophany of emotions
quenched by one tear streaming
down your pale cheek.
I melt away, a spirit in your dreams.
This wisp of form I have become.
You clench the rose from my casket
and gently weep into the pillow.
The crushed petals, soft and tender,
fall gracefully to the floor.
The moon mirrors this posthumous
occasion with a serene glow,
and the wind daintily picks up
the curtain, letting the dim light
pierce me.
Her cold, sweet eyes look up
to find me.
In the most brief of moments,
I thought she was able to see me,
but alas she remarked," Damn window!
It nevers stays closed. He forgot to fix it".

Phantasm's Farce

Sean Smith

Lutz, United States

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