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The imprints of an invisible world remain a mystery…


                                      A Haunting - Poetry 
                                         By Kaitlyn Karol 






-- my weary heart, burdened and ill,


held in a prison,

                          against its will

at your gun’s point,

                          though it’s shooting blanks and still…



Admired, yet betrayed,

                              future good love 


all because of



Passion so black,

calling me to go back,

to a time I’ve tried to forget

and relish to regret


Your love

and its potential power

best-kept secret

hidden under ground,

like an unborn flower,

beneath the worn woodwork

and crumbling structure of an old building

buried in the planks of

a nostalgic juke box

spinning some sad old Patsy Cline song

as dark and stained as dried blood, 

two hearts struggling to express

lyrical intent contained by a dam

without a proper flood,

sinister, ghost-slapped,

the hate

of such fate,

freeze-dried and heat-wrapped


before it sizzled

it fizzled and fried,


and you didn't even try,

without any reasons why,

so the heart remains



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