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Nowadays even ghosts have become digital.

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The regrets of the past,
Haunts us all one day,
Like the ghosts that dwell,
In the hauted house,
And inspite of the things we do,
We turn the walking dead.

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Dancing with the Departed

Amelia, intrigued by tales of the eerie old mansion on Willow Street, decided to spend a night inside. As twilight faded, she ventured in with a flashlight. Creaking floors and cold gusts unnerved her, but she pressed on. In the parlor, an antique piano's keys played a haunting melody. She followed it to the grand ballroom, where spectral figures waltzed with faded grace.

Amelia watched, transfixed. The apparitions smiled and beckoned. Realizing they were trapped souls seeking company, she joined the dance. Fear gave way to comfort as she connected with these lost spirits. In that haunted house, she found not horror, but a bridge between the living and the departed, a dance transcending life and death.

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Last Thursday afternoon,
now Friday night I sat alone,
in the room with the lights
on brightly.
Let it be seen if something
passes without permission.
The window is locked tightly,
Likewise with the door of
my room.
Now I'm lonely as friends,
In silence I want to close
my eyes, Unwind after my
activities today.
Suddenly a sound of crying
appears and it was the
Friday ghosts.

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Moments pass by one after another,
Which are to never return.
We only carry the ghosts of it
And remember how they felt.

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What ghosts hold you hostage?

Sometimes the ghosts of stories keep me hostage.
Stories that are real or picked from wicked movies
Which hold elements of suspense, horror & mystery.
These ghosts at times confines me in a place
and other times become companions in curiosity.

I lie low from being hostage of the ghosts of day.
I fear that one phone call which will steal a part of my life.
I fear those smiles which are directed to me for no reason,
and worse when there is a reason to keep distance.
These ghosts force me to live on countable breaths.

But I fear becoming hostage of the ghosts of my mind, the most.
For they hold a lot of power on me and my fragile heart.
At times they force me to sleep, and other times keep me awake.
They make me think and rethink on loop and leave me numb at end.
They enjoy the battles I have to fight with myself for them for fun.

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"Silent Spirits of the Secret Castle"

(Read whole short story in the Caption)

Rekha Khanna

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Till the night ends
And day breaks

I'll stay in dark
Waiting for the light
To kill
The Ghosts of memories!

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And we all do have
The ghosts of our past selves,
Buried deep within our souls.
It's just a matter of moments
And a few judgements,
Before we choose to let them out,
If at all or perhaps,
As the sensible would wish for, never.
We all regain hints of the past
Within ourselves,
Its just a battle between
Our conscience and our restless minds,
That determines if
The past gains control over the present.

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