The Ghost
The touch so thin
I hover at your side
My breath a breeze, faint and cold
I make your hairs rise
Yet nothing for your eyes to behold
You respond from my longing caress.
Goose flesh creeping on your skin.
As though you I do pass,
you shiver from a touch so thin.
My dark aura you can feel,
the weight of my tortured soul.
My earned fate is sealed.
I linger to pay my toll.
I am an echo of the past,
I assault your mind.
Such a wicked image cast,
To your soul I long to bind
If I reach out and touch you,
will you ever truly see?
What can a lonely ghost do,
To make you aware of me?
About the Creator
Mark Stigers
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
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