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Ghost Stories

A few weeks later, as the last breeze of summer gives way to autumn, Gem still can’t process the fact that Ari, Lyra, and himself are most likely the only remaining survivors of the town they (however grudgingly) called home. As they sit around the fire one frosty evening, Gem asks Ari and Lyra to take his mind off of things and share some scary stories. 


The icy wind taunted me as I struggled to stay warm

This abandoned cabin would be my refuge from the winter storm

My trepidation was soothed as I walked through the door

This strange house was alluring; felt like I’d been there before

As I entered a chilling mist drifted through the air

And I saw the ghostly image of my grandfather standing there

The image flickered feebly and faded away

When I came home, I heard he’d just lived his last day


Ghost stories

The dead are still among us

In our minds and our hearts, they haunt

Though we’ve sung their funeral song

The ghosts are never gone

In our stories they live on



The moon lit the path along the old stomping ground

With the spire in sight we prayed there was no one around

In those days we may have been given to sin

And as God’s children we felt it right to break in

Mother Mary looked oh so wary as we climbed inside

They posed on the piano as I welcomed the bride

And with all cares cast aside


We thought to ourselves, lightning had not yet struck

So, we went higher just to push our luck

Up and up we went ‘til we reached the bell

All the saints did gaze upon us and wish us well

As we moved ourselves to where the view was best

A mob formed below us who demanded our arrest

But as we sheepishly exited to the cool midnight air

All was silent – there was no one there

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