The roaming spirits

By Sara •
I cast my spell out, they awake,
Rising out of the deep red liquid,
I greet them with a smile, they glare,
Their slipery wet darkness casting shadows.
I lift my glass and drink to them,
Looking suprised they also drink back to me,
I ask about their life and death,
Silvery, transparent tears fall silently below the floor.
These are the roaming spirits, looking for answers.