Through the alcove window
in the arms of pines
a spectre in the dark appeared to me
on the sighs of slumbering night sounds
no feet could touch the ground

Gliding down the mountain *****
no feet to touch the ground
the spectre fell onto her knees
clawing moss and dirt and things unseen

Arms outstretched
her shoulders shuddered
an array of exclamations
contorted in her screams
she ripped apart the tender parts
that daylight must not see

She wailed for emptiness
She wailed for sleep
She wailed for peace that never comes
to a spectre in the witching hour
who beats the earth with fists of fire
and clenches things unseen

No comfort in the arms of pines
for the spectre on her knees
out in the midnight drizzle  
no comfort here for me

And so I know that spectre
that spectre on her knees
can only be the ghost
the ghost you left in me