She's smothered in silk,
Pearls, ruffles and jewels,
But something isn't right...
She walks down the aisle,
Looking for her love,
Her dress a blackening white.
Her shoes are muddy,
Her clothes are ripped,
As she walks into the night.
Her veil hides her face,
Grubby, tear stained, red,
Once beautiful and bright.
The ghost bride is doomed
To wander down the aisle,
Until she finds her knight.
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The old man made of mist Sits at the end Of the platform. The young girl in The wallpaper Lingers on the stairs. The dog with night-black fur Guards the road home.
As the seasons change, From winter to spring, New tales are told, More stories to bring. Through summer The fireplace has no uses at all, But as the cold air draws near, The ash soon will fall.
Mist swirls around my feet as I enter the clearing where we used to meet, It's colder now, more bleak, The air fills my nose with the freezing reek of winter.
You evoked. Me,. You provoked. Me,. Touching. The glass,. I made it. Crack,. Dimmed. Light,. I made it. Flicker,. Out of spite,. An angry. Soul,. A spiritual. Presence,. Was your. Goal,. The Ouija.
Mist swirls around my feet as I enter the clearing where we used to meet, It's colder now, more bleak, the air fills my nose with the freezing reek Of winter.
A whisper in the hallways, A grey smudge in the yard, Not solid and not touchable, Not see-through yet not hard.
It was a lovely summers day When he took his stick and walked To the sleepy little hamlet Of which the locals talked He strolled and took the sights No signage could he see It should only be mile How...
The shadows in the hall Dancing down the walls, The voices in the breeze That bring you to your knees. The stories you are told That shake your very soul, The un-departed dead Are voices in your head.
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