The Ghost Of White Mountain

The Ghost Of White Mountain

 

 

She walks the same road and lives the same night.

Unable to let go she turns her back on the light.

She was meant to live and experience the joys of life.

How can she forgive when her soul still feels the knife.

From his haunting laughter she tries to run,

But every night hereafter the damage is done.

 

From the light, outstretched arms try to relieve her pain.

Past them she runs through blackened trees and the rain.

Why weren’t they there, when she needed them the most?

Now she’s simply known as “White Mountains’ Ghost”.

She once had a future, a life and a name,

All senselessly taken by the devils’ game.

 

In a bar down the road, a demon slowly drinks his poison,

Trying to drown out her screams, from which he can’t run.

Endlessly haunted by the look of sheer terror on her face,

He begs his conscience for mercy and that night be erased.

The devil simply laughs at his pawns’ insanity,

Knowing he has his soul to torment for eternity.

 

Down the mountain he drives as an eerie fog rolls in.

His vision impaired as the effects of his poison begin.

Out from the mist “White Mountains ghost” appears,

As the sounds of her laughter are the last he hears.

His sentence begins as he enters the arms of the beast.

Finally freed, she enters the light and basks in her peace.

 

By Brian K. Walters