Anonymous Glass from the Spirits

[Glass from the Spirits]

Anonymous

There it was, the glass that trickled in a line around the grave No one knows how it got there, a ghost some say But most disagree, without a logical reason The glass was broken, and in clumps, piles

The woman who was curious, about it all Picked up the glass and studied it She cried out, it had cut her Red Thick Blood concealed her finger and soon, her whole hand She wiped it off with a plant, and it quickly vanished Didn’t leave a trace Not a smudge, no stain

People never understood why she would go to the grave Someone once said it was because she worked for the spirits

But that was deception, no one liked her. She had no friends

The spirits were her friends She was known by the spirits as Banshee, which meant screaming, lonely woman She would visit weekly--For reasons she would not disclose

The smell of the dewy grass

The feel of the cold concrete The reason why, left lingering inside of her

Her heart was pounding Her hands suddenly became clammy and warm Something was going to happen

In seconds, something lashed out She was in pain And suddenly-It went dark

In a blink of an eye, she was history. The tale is that she is still roaming around the graveyard, leaving bits of glass so that the spirit takes more people.

Erased, lifeless, non-existent, asleep for eternity