in midnight i placed my feet to the ground
at the shore of a dark tenebrous lake
i was unsure, not myself pondering the mistake
the night was hollow echoing sounds
so doubtful, i could not agree
if it was but a banshee calling for me

twisted twirls of midnight mist
called forth from the lake
within her shape slowly came
as if a flicker of a snow flake

her image grew bigger
i swore i heard a snigger
behind my left shoulder
my heart turned colder
the mists unwrapped their gift or curse
was she rusalka, banshee or ghost
or just a speck of dust from another universe

i withdrew my feet from the shallow waters
clasping my pendant to my chest
a last pang of maddened hope
i ran until my feet forced rest
i stayed there breathing until dawn
who was that mirage, that ghostly form…

(c) 2013 allen simpson
inspired by myths and legends…

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