I am haunted by my dreams of love,

like nightmares

that come as I sleep.

A phantom dripping in red,

it tortures me

with visions of futures,

memories of grief,

signs of isolation.

A spectre sharp as knives,

it taunts me

with words that ring true,

words that bring to,

words that ring through,

and like a hollow bell,

brass death knell,

I sound thrice

in the young night.