The Haunted Mirror
£20 For a nightmare. only to destroy it could end it
The Haunted Mirror
A treasure found at a curious sale,
Its ornate frame told a chilling tale.
A ghost within, bound to its face,
Yearning to flee its mirrored space.
Its whispers echoed in the dead of night,
A plea for freedom, a spectral fight.
The air grew heavy, the shadows deep,
As it stirred from its eternal sleep.
No charm nor spell could hold it still,
Its will unbound, a force of ill.
The only cure to end its spree:
To hurl the mirror into the sea.
With trembling hands, I cast it wide,
Watched the waves claim it in their stride.
And as it sank, the silence grew—
The ghost now bound to the ocean blue.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
Well-wrought! In a way, all mirrors are haunted, for our reflections are, after all, but ghosts that disappear when we walk away.