ghost stories
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She’s a wild banshee With a passion for predation, From which there is no salvation With her staring bulging eyes, And the scream that she cries, That can rip the soul out of any being She’s a wild eyed banshee, She’s a Gaelic Ban Sith A supernatural faerie, With a terrifying keening and wailing She’s
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Laying in bed I heard a noise A loud few thuds on the floor The banging and slamming of the doors, I got up and walked through the rooms In the darkness within the gloom, Hairs standing upon my neck Goosebumps covering my skin, As I feel my heart racing Then I notice a window
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Baroque decoration all around And there is an orchestral string sound, Resonating around this giant hall And there were people dancing showing no emotion at all, Dressed in 18th century wear I hear harpsichord music traveling through the air, It’s so surreal and yet also menacing I look around and have a hard job focussing,
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Haunted me, that’s how I live Never free of the spirits, Who seek to follow and haunt me In my memories and in my dreams, But not just there but in reality They don’t scare me because I am used to it now see, Because they don’t it for so long I can handle it
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This is my house This my home But it is haunted, I sense spirits And I see ghosts Yet I don’t fear, Because I live with them Year upon year And they don’t hurt me So we let each other be In paranormal harmony This is my house This my home But it is haunted
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Deep down in the paranormal Things will stir and they will haunt you, The season of the witch and the witching hour Are so menacing because the emit real power, The demons and necromancers dwell together Within the realms of Babel’s Tower, As the travel along the river Styx There is nothing as scary as
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Crumbling will And fear filled thoughts She found herself caught, In between a desire To live in this house she loved, Or flee in terror at what she felt. At night she felt the cold waves Instilling chills within, Hearing sudden unexpected movements And unnatural noises, During the day at home She felt the eerie
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Crumbling will And fear filled thoughts She found herself caught, In between a desire To live in this house she loved, Or flee in terror at what she felt. At night she felt the cold waves Instilling chills within, Hearing sudden unexpected movements And unnatural noises, During the day at home She felt the eerie
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The Nephilim are among us They walk where normal angels fear to tread, They are iconaclastic they’re seen as deviant souls They are ancient and primordial, They are representing the oldest souls You look to me and wonder, About this, how could I possibly know, It’s because I am Nephilim The thing of which stories
