Phantom

He is contained in darkness
making no sound
speaking no word
he has no muscle to move
but I cannot escape him

As I walk the streets
on warm, sunny days
he rides in my shadow
his bony, frigid hands
grasping fervently for my ankles
hoping for just enough grip
to pull me down into
the darkness I create
when I blot out the light

Beset upon
by the foul stench of his presence
I can only contemplate
an eternity of this torment
He was short lived
and ever longer dead
and any and all attempts
to give back to him his life
through word or deed
are met with inquisitions
to whether or not he truly lived

His existence is my eternal onus
In no way can my folly be undone
And so forever must I endure
my mistake