the Dead Man's Wish

In a darkened room, where shadows breed, A dead man lies, his body stilled by death's decree, Yet his wish lingers, a phantom's seed, He whispers to the night, his plea. "Let me rise from this cold tomb, And wander, under the moon's gleam, Through the graveyards where darkness looms, Lost souls dance, a ghostly stream." His eyes, once bright, now glassy orbs, Hold a tale of love and pain, Of a heart that yearned for love adored, But tragically was slain. A lover's whisper, like a haunting dirge, Echoes from within his hollow chest, The melody of longing, his love's scourge, Entwined within a spectral quest. Through the graveyard's gates, he would roam, Seeking solace in endless night, His love's spirit, forever his home, In the darkness, their spirits unite. But time moves on, its cruel hands, Marking the hours, another day done, And the dead man's wish, in a hallowed land, Fades away with the setting sun. No longer can he wander free, His wish, a shattered, distant dream, Now bound forever, in death's decree, An eternal prisoner, it seems. So let us remember, as we pass him by, That love and loss entwine, For in death's embrace, we all must lie, With our own wish, a mournful chime. But still, he lies,