The Preacher's Ghost. Poem by Monkals Kalu

In the dead
Of the night,
His ghost rages.

Fierce winds,
Scary thunders,
Even boisterous
Rain fears his fury.

A gunshot is fired
And its echo lingers,
But the gunman is the
Preacher's restless ghost.

He babbles angrily,
Arcane babblings,
Deep enough for only
Spirits to wholly decipher.

Like a baby desires
His mother's breast
When really famished
So also his ghost craves
Unyieldingly for vengeance.

His killers hunts
His ghost more than
He thirst for his revenge,
Hence a spiritual tussle
That has turned the Preacher's
Ghost to a restless workaholic
That has refused to rest in peace.