In moonlit haze, where spirits dwell,
A haunting tale, their souls to tell,
Amidst the silence of ancient nights,
Echoes the weeping, spectral sights.
Beneath a sky, where stars conspire,
A melancholy chorus does transpire,
Forlorn souls adrift in ethereal plight,
Their tears cascading through endless night.
With wailing whispers, they seek release,
From spectral shackles, yearning for peace,
Their moans blend with the mournful breeze,
A requiem for those lost in unease.
Their cries resound through misty veil,
Like distant echoes of an ancient tale,
The unseen tears on spectral cheeks,
A haunting lament that never speaks.
In the shadowed corners, they reside,
Where past and present coincide,
Tales of sorrow etched upon their face,
Invisibly eternally bound in space.
What sorrows birthed their restless plight?
What heartaches veil their ghostly light?
We ponder as their teardrops flow,
In realms where time refuses to go.
Oh, wailing specters, in tears enshrouded,
In realms beyond where the living crowded,
May solace find you in ethereal abode,
Where peace may lift your spectral load.
Whispers in shadows, the crying of ghosts,
A somber symphony that eternity hosts,
As we gaze upon their translucent strife,
Their tears a reminder of our own fragile life.
So, let us ponder their sorrowful plight,
And cherish the moments of our mortal flight,
For in their weeping, we find a key,
To embrace the life that sets us free.
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