Faces


It was obvious that night

was like any other

it was frigid and dark, shadows cast on my sight

I was alone in my house-not a home, but a shelter

A fire crackled in the hearth

My mind was troubled, my thoughts sullen

I rocked back and forth

Everything was black in my heart

On these nights, I am weary, grieved

I feel heavy and dull, alone in my house

Time went-my long hated neighbor-, the fire smoked

I stood for bed, when I heard a sound

Not loud, not even really distinct, but indeed eery

Silently I stepped to my window

the noises got louder, louder, I peered out into the late night, quite leery

It was muffled wails, ramblings, moans

Outside, in the ebony night, under the clear moonlight

were Faces with no bodies. Gray, ghostlike faces-that’s it! Ghosts perhaps…

Long, black, holes for eyes, and like-wise open mouths, what a sight!

Disturbed, sush disturbed things, looking scared, other emotions I knew well

Their mouths agape, the noises rose-not quite coherent voices- from they

I heard complaints, bad memories, fears, grief

They looked woefully down, moving, sway sway sway

Ghostly hands pressed to their peculiar faces

To-fro-to-fro, pacing, pacing my house and woods

I saw these things I knew so well and felt fear

I knew what they were as I silently stood

My old friends my head and soul

I didn’t want them haunting me

But they were all I knew

So I slept- no, I am not free

And they stay, till I met Him.

-Angela R. Watts

My poem. Thoughts?

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