The Haunting Gaze

Once upon a woeful early December night nigh, Who am I, in this fateful time of scry’s reprise? Over many a quaint reminisce of my ghostly past, Suddenly, feel eyes piercing again, with no end. I looked around, to no avail; my time has end. I turned and saw darkness cast. As I went out in the dreary night, I felt peace, Oddly enough, the crickets chirp, and the wind speaks. I walk along the road, and yet I felt uneasy. Again, those piercing eyes sunk deep into my griefs. “Where are you?" I call out. "Can you hear my pleas?” Again, I turned to dark seas. Strolling about, footsteps echo, though path’s untrod. I falter back home, but it's inconvenient fraud. Back to the untrod path of what could be or not, I look around, to no avail; I feel this facade. Eagerly, I call out; now there are piercing prods. I seek out the darkness's fraud. I see no evil, hear no evil. What are you? I gently crept all about with no sound; I’m bound Bound to seek you and end this childish game you play. How come I have heard no sound? Are you not profound? Thy hide an enigmatic like bound that surrounds. Are you in the darkness bound? Come out from hiding; I know thy eyes follow thee. Why won’t you listen to me? Do you speak in threes? I know you are out there; why do not you reveal? How do I convince thee speak to me? Please, please, please? I wait for an answer, but only I say, “Pleas.” I spoke to you in threes; do you need some more pleas? The wind blows against my ear, and I hear nothing obscure. A distant echo runs into my ear; I call, “Who is there?” Echo no more; the sound is clear, I call out again. Footsteps follow; finally, it emerges from darkness’ air. It has appeared. Who is there? Make me aware! It calls out, but not clear. I got a glimpse of the figure that finally answered my call, A wraith that seems to haunt my memory. Its eyes, like embers, cold, dead, and deep, And though the form looked cloaked in dread, A ghostly echo of what’s dead, A past that whispers in my sleep.