Ghost

By Kirsten Nussey

A ghost of myself is that what I see?
To remain, to be, for all eternity?
it looks back; eyes void of emotion,
whirpools, of a deep black ocean.

Upon that fateful night my life did cease,
but alas it seemed would not be at peace.
For in my place, it - she - came,
My body then, did she claim.

Now im home to a devilish beast,
my past life forgone, now deceased,
I live only for blood, the rich taste, its flavour;
the rush that i get, the rush that I savour...