Pete's poems from the night.

35,020 poems read

The Ghost.

With eyes down shut
Just weeping sores,
She whirls here about
Like a wind taken wrapper.

Teased by whisperings
A cruel sea's jape,
Held she is to the pier
By hope so desperate.

A mother to be
Lovingly caressing,
The swelling fruit
Of a love destined.

He was an outsider
Cursed by all but one,
Birthed a disturbance
In minds of cast iron.

Growing anger matured
Into rage fully fledged,
Meeting out a judgement
From imaginings dredged.

Persued by a frenzied mob
Torches raised in rapture,
Twisted shadows bay for blood
Stringing him up on capture.

A grim depth of punishment
For the betrayal of one,
To take away expression
For no tears shall run.

Imparting the fate of her love
With such torturous glee,
Ostracised in blindness
To fall below the sea.

With eyes sown shut
Just weeping sores,
Still she will search
When the pier is no more.

A companion to The Outsider poem.

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The Ghost.