G is for Ghosts

Hi there everyone, I have been very busy with school work and my mind has been all over the place. For G I wanted to go into talking about Ghosts. About 2 years ago I wrote a poem called "Relinquished" which will be published soon in my college's literary magazine. When I wrote this I was in an emotional state and felt like taking my emotions and placing into another imaginary person. I am an empathic healer and sometimes I get too caught up in my own emotions. To release those emotions, I created an individual in my mind who had been murdered. She has no name and speaks about her life after death. Each paragraph will explain everything you need to know about Ghosts. I hope that you enjoy! 

I can still remember it faintly, the beating of my little but broken heart. 
The sky becomes black as velvet, and I am afraid, but I look to the moon.
Trampling through the corpses lying in this graveyard.
I dream of somewhere, someplace I used to adore; my ocean.
Sand between my toes and the tossing of waves before the nightmare of my cancer.
Now, all I see are crucifixes and the shadows of men still stalking to murder.  


Where is my redeemer to save my lost soul in this corruption?
Is it fair, for the divine to cease the beating of my heart?
For why has the light disappeared and been swallowed whole by this cancer?
They say the light can be sudden, and that only the righteous ones can view the magnificence.
As I am departed, I would have rather dived sinking to the bottom of my ocean.
The water is so much more bearable and I seek no serenity in this graveyard. 


The dead discombobulated in their uncontrollable nature, roam this haunted graveyard. 
However, I feel as though they did not deserve their slang of malevolent murder. 
I close my eyes and I lift my head to the imagery of my sanctuary, my ocean.
I lurk for the hope deep inside of my motionless heart.


As I sob in my treachery, I wish I could go back and battle off my cancer.
All that I am is obsolete, just like everyone else buried in this damned graveyard.
When the trees are bare, here the branches cringe at the moon.
I wished for anyone restless to abduct the men who caused my murder.


Depth can be quite clear that wickedness could never withstand my ocean.
The rapture of the waves would have swallowed my cancer.
Euphoria used to radiate in the aquatic and in my pulsating heart.
I see gaiety no more but only grim of the spirits surrounding this graveyard. 


In a perfect state of mind, I could touch the rim of the moon.
In my memories, my mind will lead me back to my distant ocean.
In a perfect world, my fate would not have lead me to my murder.
I am and I will always be bounded to this gruesome graveyard.
The requiem presented by the living will morn, then I will have to accept 
my new reality from the bottom of  my little lifeless heart.