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The Ghost of the Forest


Writer, author, short story writer, poet, youtuber, blogger.


Wandering spirit

I am a splintered rock, within its lime content.
a spirit that floats everywhere, that's what I am.
I have fun going through walls, and flying.

I also love moving around with thought.
I am pure energy, without an apex of matter, a scattered light,
a clear shadow that illuminates, the darkness.
but I get dark sometimes.
Because nobody sees me and that saddens me.

I never sleep or I eat, just travel and talk
with other wandering spirits.
I do not like to bother anyone,
I just hope to help as much as possible
whom I could ever interact with
in physical form, when I had life..

I will remain for some feelings,
in this same environment where
I once lived in a body.
but I will be attentive to the light,
and the positive emotions of those I love
with all my soul of eternity.


I am a ghost

I left a long time ago.
Now I am living what I already lived,
only memories pushed by the wind
that oscillate in the fictitious hours of the planet.

I keep recreating myself in the same events
that I forgot
and that I come back to live again.
The leaf litter of time,
falls laconic and pleasant in the pond of desires,
and they float in the unreal minutes.

Time is fantasy.
I'm a ghost in hologram,
who see other beings who believe they are alive,
ignoring that some are also ghosts,
others are specters of remembrance and other souls that wander
before being born in different venues of the planet ...

The spaces are subdivided, and they frame
supposed illusory realities of nothingness or of everything.
We are spheres that levitate, and yet we believe that we have a solid body with form.

Minds are programmed and encouraged to think,
as if they were owners of themselves,
when in fact they are handled at will.
Evil, kindness, are eligible objects, yes.

Everyone is master of their actions and their consequences.
Continuous wandering between landscapes and letters that fall and rise.

I am a ghost.



My black hair and my beauty, I throw to the sea,
to moisten with nature my wander.
The years will pass, life will pass,
but the memory of each being will never decrease.
In the millenary memories of God it will sustain itself,
in the eternal city next to the angels and their royalty.

Woman that you look at your beauty;
man that you contemplate your gallantry;
remember that they are only ephemeral moments of the flesh,
trivial joys

The true essence is spiritual, eternal and enigmatic,
full of feelings, noble and moral,
or dark and detestable emotions.

Let's try to follow the divine laws in life,
that will open the door of love at the end of the road,
when one day we will reach its plains of heaven
and Edenic paradise, holding hands of Jesus.


Half alive woman

Shaded of compassionate spirits,
I see my dark tears flow,
dissolved in heartbreak and real ghosts.
A storm of hatred stops its action
and is displaced by a gentle rain
of reassuring dreams and paranormal companies.

Road between mists,
always dressed in darkness.
My black lips kiss the night
and the male spectra
they murmur nocturnal compliments.

I'm half alive, half dead,
my conscience gravitates at night
through my etheric form during sleep.
And I travel to inscrutable places.
Sites of intense paranormal activity.


Eternity of the night

The lack of love is dark,
I sigh shadows.
I want to sleep eternal.
Eternity in nothing,
without pain.
I close the night vision,
and I look for the light.

I find the light,
other resplendent loves
They stare at me.

But I submerge
in my black fantasies
of mental salvation,
surrounded by darkness.
My spirit wanders in solitude
and levito between gravitational souls,
that comfort me

Depression that crushes me,
falling tears,
between ghosts, onlookers.
Crushed, shot between dreams,
They are looking for a satisfactory exit.

Disappear everything,
of the terrifying scenario of their evil,
It is the lethal solution.

The letters fall and faint
and with their stares fixed,
they say goodbye
False letters, dressed in fake love,
they fall into nothingness.

© 2018 Venus Mary


Venus Mary (author) from Panamá on October 05, 2018:

Hi Tim, thanks for your edifying comment. If, in fact, this is as you say, both by the testimonies and by the evidences, in psychophonies and apparitions, the spirits exist, and are categorized. I love that you like my poem.

Venus Mary (author) from Panamá on October 05, 2018:

Hi Lora, Thank you, I love that you liked it. This is the perceptive that I transmit when I visualize myself in a ghost character. I think that the category of white spirits are not sad, because they can be for a time with their loved ones, because later they rise in the light towards God.

Tim Truzy from U.S.A. on October 05, 2018:

Wonderful article, Venus. I enjoyed the poem, expressing what many have stated over time about ghosts.

I like the line about wishing to help others. I don't believe all such entities mean harm. In fact, some ghosts may present themselves as "holy."


Thank you.

Much respect,



Lora Hollings on October 04, 2018:

Venus, I like your poem. It makes me think of those whom I loved and have passed on. I wonder if they continue to exist in a spiritual form on this earth as well as in another realm? I've often thought that I can feel the presence of those who were so much a part of my life. You did a very good job at expressing this idea and in creating images of these invisible spirits that continue to linger here close to those that they will always love.

Venus Mary (author) from Panamá on October 03, 2018:

That's right, it happens that when I get into that character, it's what I perceive, and I also think it's sad, that condition of wandering souls, because once, they were alive, and now they gravitate in that dimension. I mean the spirits that are not negative. Thanks John, for your comment.

John Hansen from Gondwana Land on October 03, 2018:

I found this interesting being written from a ghost or spirit’s perspective but it is also quite sad, Venus. Thanks for sharing.

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