Dearest wanderer of sorrow,


            Possessing the weakened bones which quake of agony;

           Therein torment lay entities within weeping hollows,

           For my haunting mesmerization in misery.


         Phasmophobia will linger,

            As ghosts shall wail in their infernal eviternity;

         The forbidden spirits which may gently hinder,

           Through fuscous skies to perhaps my grave.


           Yet inquisition dwells on madness,

          For morality has no conscious vein to bleed the wicked plague;

          Lament of apparitions loathe the fragile sense,

         Into a sorrowed eclipse of dissonant fate.


               Phasmophobia erupts disquietude of a grand mass,

            Through a timeless malevolent presence;

            Illusions amass the frail clockwork glass,

                 My sincerest tragedy benign to your disgrace.


                                                                             the everlasting anguish,



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