Spectre short poem

Drifting by my window
on a cold dark winters eve,
no sound, nor chasing echo,
no path to follow or deceive.

A silent spectre; a mask of scorn,
a hazy memory, from life ’twas torn.
Jealously wanting what now it resents,
a rage no mortal can perceive or prevent.

The pulsing obsession of detached desire,
feeding the flames and stoking the fires
as it tries to cross the bridge to our plane,
resolute, relentless; a moth to a flame.

Pushing at the fabric with all of its will,
dull red eyes ignoring the light, until
with a cry of despair it relents and fades,
slowly drifting between intangible shades.

Written by Darren Scanlon, October 2009
This revised version written, 10th April 2015.

This poem is part of the Poetry Book “Positively Poetic – Volume 1

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Darren Scanlon

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ALL POEMS ©2015 DARREN SCANLON. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. * Words and music have always played a major role in my life. A life without being able to enjoy music and express in words would be, for me, empty and cold.I have been writing since age 16, some 30+ years now but have only recently started publishing my works. Since doing so in Dec 2013, I have published 4 novels and 5 volumes of poetry, (available on Amazon.co.uk).My words are my life. If they touch you in any way, if you are able to take something from them, then my work has achieved its goal and I am a happy man.Welcome to my world. Darren.
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asoke kumar mitra

lovely write, beautiful read. you have a style of your own.


Wonderful Darren it was on the lines of my DEAFTING EVIL too much Edgar Alan Poe for me.
I suspect yours is maybe from some memory resurfing???
By the way your Hey Up Matron was a laugh a minute but oh yes I can see all
of that happening too.
Take care