A Pit of Hauntings

January 7, 2013
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Ghosts of our past dance around me
And memories of us still haunt me
Yet as time passes, you still taunt me
With your charm and wickedness

I hold onto what’s left
But what’s still left is nothing
And holding onto nothing means falling
Into a pit of hauntings

Your shadows creep up
And make the mood go down
A chill brings the winter
Into a turnabout frown

And what is left of us is a ghost
That whispers in my ear
Taunting me to come near
Yet I still hold onto what’s left
And fall into a pit of hauntings

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