Ghost at my Window

A ghost waits at my window her eyes a demon red she waits in patient silence then moves upon my bed she bends my dreams to please her whim she steals my lover's sleep unfolds her lust to pull me in my soul now hers to reap until the Sun creeps in to free my heart in day's return a ghost waits at my window her kiss again shall burn

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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