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Poem

BEHOLD the spine-tingling manifestation,
the GHOST TREE stands,
bathed in an eerie blue-grey hue,
a chilling stance.

It looms amidst the dense and opaque fog,
which muffles all sound and obscures all sight.
Its gnarled and twisted trunk,
devoid of leaves,
is ravaged by time,
etched with deep, screaming cracks.

Its macabre facade,
an arboreal mask,
frozen in a silent,
petrifying shriek.

The distant landscape shrouded in mystery,
a blur of shapes and shadows,
veiled in mist's cloak.
It beckons the curious, the brave, the bold,
to venture closer,
to uncover its tales untold.

Perhaps, it was once a mighty king,
a towering monarch,
a revered being.
But now, it stands alone,
a mere shadow of itself,
a ghost of the past,
a haunting apparition.

Or maybe, it's a portal to another realm,
a gateway to a world beyond our own.
One step closer, and the fog may clear,
revealing the secrets it's been holding dear.

But dare you approach,
beware the curse,
for the ghost tree's wrath may be worse.
It may ensnare you in its twisted ghastly clasp,
and bind you to this chilling dwelling
for all eternity.

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