Raider Times photo / Jaylyn Le / Word Painter

By disdain, you murdered me; I am dead.

And now believe you might be free?

For pardon, you will kneel and plea

when I come haunt you in your bed.


Then shall my ghost come as a scream;

not as harmless phantom that swiftly glides.

Tears I’ll prise from thy fearful eyes

when I come haunt you in your dream.


May your breathing be cut from air

when your neck senses my frigid hands

unearthly whispers that hair stands 

when I come haunt you to your lair.


With feet that make on floor no sound,

and leave no impressions in the air,

dead not from hands but from despair

When I come haunt you into the ground.


In the table of those whom you’re bound

there’ll be more guests than there’ll be hosts

you’ll now be sitting among us ghosts

When YOU come back on Earth to haunt.


(Published November 2022)