Dear ghost,
I am a gypsy who lost the key to her chains. The chains from the grave I dug. I, being a fugitive who ran away from you, as if like a sentence, sunk in the swamp. I am trapped in the forest of what I utterly fear. My adventure in a pause. My muse in an exile. I am frozen in the gush of the leaving summer. I went in search of an abandoned obsidian cave to slumber in the dark. I stalked the night to venture in the milky way of those who knows. I dreamt of the radiant witch who shall grant my delusive desire. But I ran away from you. So you lured me to this prison where I always come back to. I will escape once but sink twice. Such is the penalty of life from whom I fled.
Yours even as I fear to be.