Ghost in the Pane

Captive of This House, photographed by Moondustwriter

Face fleshed press to glass

In a prism of this stifling

Cartography—

Uncharted waves of tempered light

         Spatially charged with a dimension

Infused into all

                           Memories remain, yet soon shall fade

Clinging tight you dare not cede

         The last shreds of

Life and dignity

                  And I wonder why

                  Why’d you evade the reaping?

                  How is it his sickle found not thee?

                  Are you afraid, of how things will be,

                  When fragments are all that remain,

Incessantly tormenting with their sparse refrains?

                 

                  I don’t know whether to smile or cry

I can’t decide if should pray for the reaper’s return

For I can’t see a fate forever resembling vengeance—

And here I must cry, for hell never had you in its plans…

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A Spectre's touch

You aren’t like me

never have, not at all

It’s also true that you’ll never be

and that’s a truth I’ll happily call

The devil in a junkyard

His henchmen out at play

creepers lurking in the scars

scaring the lightning bugs away

Bone justice’s betrothed to us

Here now we’ve been wed; forever joined in vows just bled

Never strayed can we be, forever is not but a rhyming melody

What began as lust, now owns my unrequited trust

I don’t care about those painful words that they speak

I ignore the lies; I damn their pain

You’re the only one I’ll ever need; you’re all I’ve ever sought to seek

And if the truth aches deep in you, we’ll damn it all and start anew

you might strike fear within some,

seeing the ghost that you’ve become,

but I’ll never flee, I’ll never run

…and yes, it is true

You aren’t like me; you’ve never been and never will

For I’m dead to life, or so they say,

And you’re alive, living life through all I believe

A spirit resting peacefully still

Hidden from a world

Whose truth

Only you can truly see

Disorientation in the AM.

I awoke with a strange aura glistening the room.
At first I felt frightened, then I don't know what

But as always, logic solved

After the waking moments waked
I realized I had installed these little tap on lights
underneath the book shelves

must've forgot to turn them off...

Could there be another explanation?

Perhaps...
most likely...
yes...
         but I don't want to dream on that
         line. I've been down that path too
         often for it to only be dream.

Perhaps...

If the lights are on the morrow