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,