Inspired by true events
Some ghost stories frighten the reader with accounts of murders and hauntings. Others entrance the reader with tales of tragedies and eerie coincidences. Ours may merely perplex you with its testimony of mystery and Gatorades. Still, I feel this story must be told. Continue reading
A boy who died when I was just a boy
Has haunted me up to this very day.
His ghost I fear I never will destroy;
His face I fear will never fade away.
With breathless voice, he whispers in my ear.
With sightless eyes, he stares into my soul.
With ev’ry step I take, I see him sneer
With devilish desire to take control.
But victory for him would mean my doom,
For he would see me suffering in hell.
Though safe am I by truth of empty tomb,
The specter whispers still, “All is not well.”
I am until my final breath a host
Ever departing from him, my own ghost.