The Medium

Empty hall, chairs in the corner.
I do not have time to warn her
as she makes her way inside,
face exhausted, bleary eyed.

Memories flood in. The ghosts
of our long forgotten hosts
circle her, each yells its story.
"Worship me! Accept my glory!"
She can't answer them, of course.
In a practiced voice, but hoarse,
she now blocks their new found portal
and sends every vain immortal
to the void from which they came.
Looks at me. I am to blame.

Did this all just really happen?
Did they find a way to tap in
through the medium of heirs?
I'm not sure.

I just see chairs.