A Ghost

It lingers where the echoes fade, A whisper soft, a fleeting trace. Between the dusk and night's embrace, A shadow lost, yet unafraid. Its fingers brush the candle’s glow, A chill that stirs the sleeping air. A presence felt but never there, A voice the silent hours know. Through hollow halls it drifts unseen, A sigh upon the windowpane. A memory that still remains, A ghost of all that once has been.