I Saw Her Ghost
I saw her ghost hovering
over the Mediterranean Sea,
the vision stuck to me like glue,
I watched it take over me,
and I wanted the waters to be blue,
but they were not,
the air around me was sticky and hot,
off the coast of Italy,
I’ve seen a lot,
the sea was pitched black,
as the heat continued its attack,
I lowered my torch down
toward the ground,
and the fire blazed,
right over the lapping waters,
my steady eyes still gazed,
as the ghost moved closer to me,
and her reflection would cast
over the moon lit sea,
my mind roamed the past,
she was a beauty that didn’t last,
and such beauty went to waste,
as I was filled with bitterness,
a bitterness I could all but taste,
I had to go to her,
I could feel her pain,
and I knew death
was an unbreakable chain,
she had this control over me,
an odd demand,
that I had only dimly
begun to understand,
I felt rising vapors run through me,
and I felt damned,
the quest for death
became my breath,
it was almost like magic,
but truthfully I knew
that the results were going to be tragic,
listening to the sound of the wind,
and the dark waters would call,
then I will see the dead,
I would see them all,
a slow movement at first,
and then I’d fall,
fulfilling the dark waters’ thirst.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio