The Spectre
The Spectre
I saw the spectre cross the hall
But when I looked into that space
I saw there was nothing there at all.
I saw a shadow upon the stair
As I stood in that haunted place
And shivered in the evening air.
Footsteps creaked upon the floor,
With a slow and shuffling pace,
The scratching of a ghostly claw.
Then I felt its dreaded cold embrace
And in the dusk, upon my face,
Its fingers left their chilling trace.
But in the mirror upon the wall
I saw there was nothing there at all.
Copyright © Barry Stebbings | Year Posted 2017
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