That Ghast Behind Me

A tale of a haunting, and ghost with a message of moral warning. Ghast is an old Scottish word for ghost.

At every nook and turn,
I could sense or see,
That spectral shape gurn,
And grin its deathly smile of mirth,

For how much longer,
Shall I be on this earth?,
So often in fear,
Of that deathly leer,

That pale livid face,
Hooded and cloaked,
Even when I eloped,
I heard its swishing cloak,

As it followed me,
Me and my lover,.
Onwards at a heady pace,
Unable to hold our lasting embrace,

So all at once,
I suddenly exclaimed
Who be you,
My bane of ghostly slave?,

At my words,
The ghast cocked its head,
And lisped those venomous words,
I be you you mortal fool,

Score and twenty years from now,
When you gibber and drool,
As a phantom yourself,
Brought upon by age,

Heed my warning,
And don't be a knave,
Or slave to worldly wants,
In place of righteous haunts,

Far better that you change your ways,
So as to love and cherish,
Your remaining days,
In a graceful life,

Without bitterness or malice,
Because old age beckons,
What a bitter chalice..?

Author's Note

Well, should I follow the ghost's advice; and change my ways? In view of what awaits myself and all others, when we ripen into the problems which accompany our maturity and old age..?