Shree

In deep twilight, ghasts and ghouls emerge to haunt

In the depths of the world, all too horrid and gaunt

Ripped and ragged, their weathered cloaks they flaunt

Nothing can stop their shrieks and harrowing taunts

 

Each has a name, don’t you know, just like we

The tortured living, we the tormented free

And if one has the displeasure ever to see

The most ghastly ghoul, you can’t miss him, named Shree

 

Shree, you’d come to find, is short for “Shriek”

For when you meet him, of fear he will reek

Of all the famed souls with color-drained cheek

Who could not complete the name of the frightening freak

 

What is it that makes him so infamously impish

For many apparitions appear like smoke of Cavendish

And even banshees scream so one might unwish

Their very soul to know the fears of the fiendish

 

The tale has ne’er been told of the ghast named Shree

And I rue the day the tale-teller became me

Even now, the icy breath I scantily breathe

Sends a chill down my spine, my heart it does freeze

 

For I was met by Shree one fateful, deep twilight

He knew all my fears, and he knew Secret’s bitter bite

When I looked in his eyes, he revealed the sight

Of my death, all alone, in the middle of the night

 

Ghoulish