I Wish,
I Wish,
for the dead to show;
Ghosts,
Or spirits,

To arise of gore.

I beg,
I plead,
Not on my knees,
Nor crept up against the wall.

Just aloof I stand,
Still,
to wither,

ill of pretend.

As I wish,
A wish of you,
to come hither,

for the dead to show.

Yet no ghosts,
Neither spirits,

Just fear left to grow.

No memories reprised,
Nor aught foretold.

Yet you lay before,
Embodied,
of that which is no more.