A Haunting Melancholy

In the hushed stillness of night, the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hum of revelry carry me far away. To a time when my steps echoed through these corridors, hand in hand with the love of my existence. How cruel fate, how swift the knife of deception, severing more than mere sinew. But even in my spectral state, I retain the fires of rage, ready to punish the faithless.

My eyes trace the flare of fireworks, recalling the flicker of candlelight, the warmth of embraces long forgotten. My need for sustenance, both spiritual and corporeal, rages eternal; the wound left by betrayal a throbbing scar. Oh, how I crave the solidity of flesh, the pulse of a beating heart. Perhaps, some blessed eve, the stars may align, granting me reunion with the one whose absence haunts every shadow.

Until then, I shall continue my watch over this sanctuary, protecting the pure from harm, and dispensing retribution unto the guilty. Through the ages, I have witnessed much, but the pain of loss endures, a phantom limb, always present. It is here, amongst the whispering trees and the flickering lights, that I find solace, dreaming of the day when my lover's arms enfold me once more.