I caught a glimpse of my postmortem muse
with beauty so great no film can capture.
Only sound made is the clicking of shoes.
For him to speak would cause more enrapture.
Oh sweet ethereal apparition,
how I long to hold you in my embrace.
My dreams will never come to fruition.
Woe, my pillow must be a cheap replace.
You will never know how I adore you.
My warm eyes never to meet your cold gaze.
If only you could see all as I do.
Why must the afterlife be such a maze?
Oh ghostly Muse, I wish you could see me
but mayhaps it was never meant to be…