In the Blue Haze

There, in the blue haze, lingered her ghost,
her gossamer form unseen by most.
But I beheld her in all her wonder,
remaining stock still, lest I blunder.

She hovered, shrouded within the haze,
her eyes twinkling, inducing a daze
from which I longed not to ever emerge.
She filled me with such a yearning urge.

And for a fleeting moment, I drowned
in the surreal waves crashing around,
joining her there in the blue mist and fog,
before she retreated to the bog.

A squeeze of my hand brought back to me,
the stark contrast of reality.
I glanced down at my smiling, young son,
an eternal reminder of what I'd done.

"You see, now, daddy, I told you so.
Mommy's alive, and now you know.
She woke up from her nap inside her sheet.
Isn't it neat, daddy, isn't it neat?!"

"Yes, son, your mom does quite a neat trick,"
I mumbled, feeling suddenly sick,
my stomach churning, my head pounding,
the fog thickening as it kept surrounding.

Dread replaced the spell of wonderment,
where even the air grew less benevolent.
Hairs on the back of my neck stood on end,
as reality, again, began to bend.

With a Banshee's cry, she burst from the bog.
Then snatched our son deep within the fog,
yanking him from my safe, secure grasp,
wrapping him within her ghostly clasp.

Choking on my screams, I collapsed to my knees,
then fell speechless, mouthing frantic pleas,
as the wife I'd murdered sank beneath murky water
along with our son--her unwilling slaughter.

Now, in the blue haze, lingers his ghost,
his gossamer form unseen by most.
But I behold him in all his wonder,
remaining stock still, lest I blunder.

He hovers, shrouded within the haze,
his eyes twinkling, inducing a daze
from which I have never emerged.
Within the blue haze, I remain submerged.