The Haunting of Hollow Grove

Where the trees bend low and shadows rove,

There is a tale the wind does tell,

Of a restless spirit, a cursed spell.

A soul that wanders, lost in grief,

A love that turned to pain, not relief.

Long ago, in the days of yore,

A young couple stood on the forest floor.

Their love was pure, their hearts were light,

Their dreams as endless as the night.

But fate, it seems, had other plans,

For the forest whispered its cruel demands.

Lillian, with eyes as blue as the sky,

Fell in love with a man who could never die.

A soldier bold, whose heart was true,

But bound to the land, a spirit anew.

He fought in battles, across the seas,

Yet death could never bring him ease.

For in the war’s final, bloody day,

His soul was taken, carried away,

To wander the earth in endless woe,

Bound to the land where shadows grow.

Lillian, broken, fell to her knees,

Her heart now tethered to the breeze.

But the love they shared was not to end,

For her grief was too much to transcend.

She called to him, with desperate cries,

Her voice lost in the wind-swept skies.

And so, from the mist, he returned to her,

A ghost of longing, forever to stir.

At night, when the moonlight glows so pale,

You can hear their voices on the gale.

Lillian’s cries, soft and sweet,

A lover’s heart, forever beat.

But he, the ghost, can never speak,

For his heart is broken, his soul too weak.

Each night they meet beneath the trees,

Where the shadows dance in the evening breeze.

She reaches for him, with trembling hands,

But he slips through her grasp, like shifting sands.

For love can’t bind what death has stolen,

No matter how deep, no matter how swollen.

The villagers know, though they do not say,

That Hollow Grove is not safe to stray.

For if you wander too far at night,

You may hear a whisper, soft and light.

A call for a love that cannot be,

A mournful echo from the eternity.

And if you listen with your heart,

You’ll feel the sorrow tear you apart.

The lover’s dance, the endless grief,

The haunting echo of disbelief.

For in the grove, the trees still sigh,

As Lillian waits, and the ghost floats by.

Some say the trees grow twisted and gnarled,

Marking the place where love was barred.

Others say that if you listen close,

You’ll hear the ghost’s mournful boast.

Of a love too strong to let him rest,

A love that put him to the test.

But Lillian, bound to the misty veil,

Still waits for him, though time grows pale.

She searches the shadows, yearns for the night,

Her spirit tethered, never to take flight.

And the ghost, in his sorrowful quest,

Lingers still, never at rest.

The Hollow Grove, a place of dread,

Where love and loss are forever wed.

Where spirits wander, hearts are torn,

And the night is always forlorn.

So if you venture there, beware,

For the ghosts of love still linger there.