The Forsaken’s Cry
Introduction: Not all ghosts are seen. Some linger in the echoes of forgotten words and shattered dreams. This poem speaks of restless souls who seek justice, love, or simply the peace they were denied or do they actually? At three, when midnight’s chime bleeds into gloom, An ancient graveyard stirs beneath a spectral sky— Stone sentinels whisper secrets of impending doom, While rustling leaves murmur where lost voices lie. A lone wanderer treads the cracked, mossed way, A skeptic whose heart beats with cold disdain; Yet beneath the pallid moon’s silent display, Shifting shapes in the darkness begin to reign. They dance like ink spilled on midnight’s page, Formless specters weaving through the heavy air— Each a wraith from an unremembered age, Their sorrow and malice entwined in despair. In the hushed corridors of forgotten stone, Their murmurs rise—a broken, mournful hymn; A promise of vengeance in each forlorn tone, Entreating justice for wounds grown dim. Th...