Ghostly Whines at Midnight

The tears roll down her face
Each with a story of a past place
An innocent, yet ill, cry by her
Echoes in my mind forever
Her face moans the sorrow
As if to cloak me in her woe
As each whine stabs my very heart
Drawing my soul out, ripping it apart
Why is she weeping and all alone?
I pass by her, with a heart of stone
Who could have done this?
She cries, as snowflakes gave a kiss
Chills run down my spine
As my ears repeat that pleading whine
I turn to see if she is still there
Willing to help, she is not found anywhere . . .

--Desiree

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