The phantom’s lament was the host of an old and empty manor,
Where silence filled the air,
And a ghost drifted through each dusty room,
With memories laid bare.
The rooms were shrouded in a veil,
Of dust and shadows pale,
Where once were merriment, love, and tales,
Now, only echoes wept.
The spirit, a wraith of a sorrowed past,
Drifted through the dim, dark hall,
Its mournful cry, a haunting blast,
A melancholy call.
Each pace it made, each sigh it heaved,
It was filled with endless grief,
A tale of loss, where nothing was left,
And no sweet relief was offered.
The flicker of an old lamp’s light,
Cast shadows on the walls,
Revealed scenes of endless night,
Where past and future fell apart into the abyss.
It wailed a mournful, endless cry,
For a life long gone,
Bound to wander, never die,
Since the break of darkened dawn.
The manor reverberated its plight,
A song of timeless woe,
The phantom’s lament, a sorrowed journey,
That none may have ever known.
Through every empty chamber, it wept,
A spectral tale endlessly retold,
In silence deep, where darkness slept,
The ghost’s lament unfolded.
In every corner, shadows crept,
Their movements were cold and sallow,
The phantom’s sorrow, dark and deep,
In this forsaken place.
No living soul could hear its pain,
Nor see its endless tears,
Forever trapped in sorrowful chains,
Through endless nights and years.
Its only company, the night,
And memories long faded,
A soul forever out of sight,
Loneliness invaded.
Thus, it roamed through halls and doors,
A sentinel of anguish,
Haunted by the life it wore,
In search of lost tomorrows.
The phantom’s lament was never weary,
A tale of endless nights,
Forever lost, forever one,
With shadows, out of sight.
Its cries echoed through time and space,
A mournful melody, a sorrowed trace,
In this haunted place.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
