Haunted

Haunted, not only by the look of his eyes

But by something more sinister

Not just by the look of possession 

But by the shape of a body not given my life to touch

Tangled up and engulfed 

I entered the forest thinking I could hold myself

Unknown to the fuckery of the tale

Of what happened near Transylvania 

Haunted by the shape of his broad shoulders

Worn with clothing that did not match the vibe

That curse-d dialect

And words that tried to twist my mind

I still get flashbacks

Triggered by innocent soldiers

Men who I encounter 

That simply resemble the crime