Best Wraith Poems
twilight whispers
on the winds
of darkness
the wraith
of my soul
listens
assonance of
this empty house
articulates
through walls
of dreams
where desires
call out to you
i can hear
your inaudible voice
answering back
see you standing
in the shadows
of time
awaiting
the hours
of destiny
to allow you
to step forward
into the depths
of my awaiting arms
for now
i rest
in fragments
of hope
and wait
for my love
unknown
to arrive
Before the dawn whirling in a grim dream,
conception of a haunting howling scream,
through slivered moon's eclipse casting a gloom.
Beasts wandering eyes of red are agleam
shadows amble beyond a massive tomb.
A wraith in gossamer veils of blackness
walks a dark and dismal path of badness
stretching its tendrils over the ghost house
threshold of cold disembodied madness.
Piteous cries of pain attempt to rouse
the passion within the wraith coal shadow.
Peering piercing the night like an arrow,
lips curling back over its bloodstained fangs.
Encroaching blackness savoring sorrow
as demon's fade away as despair hangs
9/26/2017
Each night, while you lay breathing quietly,
I wander like a wraith through empty rooms
A phantom in both life and memory,
the ghost a long abandoned oath exhumes
I hover like a spirit over you
each night, while you lay breathing quietly,
so desperate to believe what isn't true,
I make the best of ambiguity
This specter in the mirror isn't me
These lines belong on someone elses face
Each night, while you lay breathing quietly,
it's loneliness that holds me in your place
My worth so long defined by your extremes;
extolled by love, or birched by perfidy,
I find it's just the first that haunts my dreams
each night, while you lay breathing quietly
Hearing noises from outside the house.
The wind whistling thru the trees,
As they sway in the front yard.
The weather alert screaming,
Warning us of the dangers,
Of Mother Nature being upset,
The way we treat her earth.
I hear noises against the window,
Someone trying to come in.
I hear the wind entering the bottom,
Of the wind, I see it he's sneaking in.
It's not the wind, it's something different.
He's white and entering under the window.
It grows with intensity.
Backing up the more I look,
The more he enters the house.
As he comes in the house,
Falling on the floor,
He disappears as if he was never here.
Walked a wooded trail, suddenly unsure of my surroundings,
wondered had I'd become lost..
only a moment disconcerted, as dusk grew nearer.
I went over an old river crossed by an even older bridge,
there not seen and yet to see a small child oddity.
for no town or village folk walked alone on so cold a day.
Just as I chose to wave and hail a hearty hello
a calm little sound, uttered from within the vicinity, albeit echoed...
"Gallows now covered in hoarfrost and rime..
scarce to hear angel's plea as guilty beg.
Ever flawless, never just as in Time,
though Adam's rib, borrowed as spindly leg."
What my ears heard my head denied in meaning,
such a strange thing for a child to utter.
She turned toward the foot of the bridge I plied,
wondered at what trick, my eye deceived.
The girl grew faintly scintillating with lack of substance in the gloomy air
as a mist or fume of smoke. Aghast., I stood on trembling legs akin to the variety..
she had so oddly fashioned in her sing songy discord.
Now spirit of another world, would ask to let me pass by.
with pleasure would grant your path ease.,if you were same as I..
Plain to those of us in mortal realm, where feet grow tired and cold
yet still leave footsteps along the path I've found.
Your feet, as much can be described, bare and unfeeling of the shadowy damp..
and don't quite reach the ground.
And with this further insult meant as challenge the wraith like apparation vanished.
Couldn't move quickly enough through rows of hedges and over fences til my feet found the common road at last..
I could still faintly hear a child's sing songy echo in voice..
"Gallows now covered in hoarfrost and rime..
scarce to hear angel's plea as guilty beg.
Ever flawless, never just as in Time,
though Adam's rib, borrowed as spindly leg."
Happy All Hallows' Eve
To my dearest supporters, Skat A and my awesome drama teacher who always encourages me, now I walk around with me book
His breath is as cold as ice,
His touch is cold and refreshing it’s nice.
He died young, but he’s old,
I can tell he is around cause everything goes cold.
He looks like a handsome devil,
He says he wants my life to feel level.
When people attack me,
He sees, and deals it out for me.
He has black hair,
It’s combed back neat and fair.
He has a beautiful jaw line,
When he first appeared I screamed and then saw him as a sign.
He keeps me safe,
Away from strafe.
He speaks to me and shows himself,
He’s fairly taller than me I feel like an elf.
He wears a black tux with a tail coat,
He told me once he owned a boat.
I can tell the age he’s from,
He was murdered by some.
He says his monsters play with mine,
I can feel them dancing in time.
He’s my little Wraith he keeps me from strafe…
He tucks me in at night,
He tells me it will be alright.
He holds me tight,
I know he will stay after the night.
He’s a beautiful sight,
But his strength is a might.
His name,
Is my fame.
He likes my style,
He says he will stay for a while.
I grew up dancing and living like him,
His body is strong and slim.
It’s our tradition to live back then,
He said he wanted a farm and a hen.
Now he’s old but he looks young,
He answers my sins and we talk and have fun.
I ask questions but he’s a special subject,
I told him for most of my life everyone treated me like a reject.
He lets me sigh and cry,
But he refuses to let me die.
He’s my little Wraith, he keeps me from strafe.
The cavern breathes.
Its walls slick with time, with damp, with secrets.
It has seen centuries of footsteps,
but tonight, it watches.
Above, the sky stretches wide—
galaxies shifting, burning,
too far, too indifferent
to witness what he has done.
She is beneath him.
Was beneath him.
Her breath stolen, her body cooling,
the fight long gone from her limbs.
He had taken what he wanted.
More than that.
Everything.
Now, only the cavern knows.
His hands, trembling now, touch the stone.
His chest heaves.
Guilt? Regret?
No—something deeper, something worse.
And then, he screams.
The sound rips through the cavern,
tearing against rock,
splitting the silence open
like a wound.
The walls tremble.
The ground shifts.
The cavern awakens.
For a breath, it grieves.
For a breath, it remembers her.
Then, it judges.
The air thickens.
The trembling stops.
His voice is taken,
flung into the void,
cast to the stars
never to return.
This is his punishment.
Not death.
Not solitude.
But silence.
The last tether to her,
severed.
Once, she pressed her palm to his chest.
Felt the hum of breath.
The warmth of skin.
The pulse of something real.
Now—nothing.
The cavern swallows the last echo.
Above, the universe turns on,
uncaring.
And the stars—
they do not grieve for him.
Reflection:
This poem is about justice—true, raw justice. The kind that human hands often fail to deliver. He took everything from her, stripping her of dignity, of breath, of life itself. But the world, the universe, does not punish men like him. They walk free, justified by excuses, shielded by silence.
But the cavern does not forget. It listens. It knows what he has done. And so, in a world where men take and walk away unscathed, the cavern becomes the reckoning. It takes the only thing left to take—his voice, his ability to be heard, his existence as something that matters. It does what the world refuses to do.
His punishment is not death. That would be too simple, too kind. Instead, he is erased, left in a silence that mirrors the silence he forced upon her. A silence that echoes forever, but never back to him.
And the stars? The universe? They do not grieve. Because this was never about them.
This is about her.
Darkling shadows
on my bedroom wall
reach out in ominous warning
they snatch at fears within my head
parading them around my bed
like drunken dance partners
Phantom forms that hypnotize
compelling me to shut my eyes
sheets held tightly in my grip
a prayer of pleading on my lip
that they will not dance their way
into my dreams
The night it was, when I heard,
a tap, tap, tapping on my hovel's door
open to find a raven, eyes filled with darkness and spite,
when I went to turn on the light,
light, a dear friend long departed,
darkness is the only memory I have not forgotten now,
A world bathed in hideous, inviting darkness surrounds me,
any thought of freedom having long since escaped,
And that pain, that misery, I hold it dear, clutch it to my chest,
a pain filled remembrance of a raven pecking at my hand,
"Nevermore, Nevermore" the specter cried,
this spiteful wraith I had invited into my home,
to which i could return, nevermore.
Star light why so bright?
you're not a star but a satellite
You hover around like a drone,
but not a drone who is owned
I stare up into the dark night,
my focus has shifted
somethings not right,
fuzzy haze in the twilight
A hood covers its glowing eyes
It hovers in invisible disguise
Concentrate not on the orb
surrounding it lights absorbed
Once it's seen you can't unsee
you wish it were just a dream
Transparent is its shape and form
Is it alive or never born?
Like a wraith one of the undead
watching you from overhead
Will, it benefit mankind on its way,
or unveil itself on Judgment day?
An imp plied Guinness to a Banshee trick
The wraith in anger gave him chase right quick,
After her gold he did dig
The Leprechaun danced a jig
But lost her rich hoard in a Limerick.
She envied his strength
In a heart shredding sandstorm
He envied her pain,
A fellow chaser of dreams
Turned into a desert wraith
life is the wraith of moments, parallel of things;
what if we die in dusts
if we travel with souls in airs
may black changes to whites?
its echoes to the reality
oh! my character, my destiny.
life is the wraith of moments, parallel of things;
tear the dead to the moment of awaken
love the sinners to the moment of broken
travel with cats, with dogs
you are in a way of two ends
the balance of living and dying is strokes.
I am a force to be reckond with
Step in my path,
And I will destroy you.
I am not supposed to feel
Not supposed to hurt,
And not supposed to want to be in his arms.
I am the selfish witch
The non-understanding demon
The thing that disgusts.
I am the stupid little girl,
Who imagines things,
Who speaks untruths.
My whole being pay's for it,
The wraith rains down on me,
And my soul weeps for you.
I will rise above this
Cause I am not the only one
Who is wrong!
The North Wind whistles as she lifts
her soft and sequenced hair,
her milky gown glows amethyst
as moon drops gather where
the Earth’s soft, gentle eyes fall closed
and tears arrest the night.
Her sleepy heart, to all exposed
abreast the piles of cold calcite.
I see her nearing silhouettes
her shadow long and bleached.
I’ve felt the chill of groaning bones
and heard Elysium beseech.
And so I wait through trials of
the Alabaster Wraith,
she dawns upon the still walls of
a midnight void of faith.
White gypsum stars fall from her eyes
her hope all buried in the quiet.
Crescendos rise in moans and sighs
as Alabaster anguish riots.
She leaves a frozen chandelier
on every branch an blade of grass,
a billion shards of nature’s tears
like silver bells of glinting glass.
Oh, winter white symphonic, mute
her muffled voice like shuffling leaves;
winter’s sad lamenting flute
has petrified the autumn sheaves.
The alabaster wraith intrudes,
her silent chords of neutrals play
her sad requiems I can’t elude
as Earth is swaddled ‘neath her splay.
Her head held low, her eyes aloft
her face a shield of sleepiness;
her anger heavy, sadness soft
her weary smiles slowly undressed-
She leaves a silent sweet tranquility
upon the hush of nature’s breath
She rests in nature's mute soliloquy
beneath her shredded burdens depth.