The Ghoul

This dead girl is tasty, flavoured with fear and pain,
And I feast hungrily on the last remnants of her life
Until she’s gone, stripped to the bone, but here am I
And it’s good, so good, to feel alive again.

I am dressed in her image, her memories flickering by,
Clothing me in emotion, my world suddenly becomes full
Of colour and delight, wonderful.
In the guise of a dead girl, I am brought back to life.

I no longer walk in fog for her sun shines down on me
And no more do I eat dust, instead her hot, red blood
Tastes bitter-sweetly of her mother’s twisted love
And her sorrows replace my endless ennui.

Too soon my meal is over and her life flickers away
And my last emotion is anguish as even jealousy
Fades away and once more I’m a ghoul, numbly
Living in a dumb world reduced to grey.


Editor’s Corner

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