Ghosts

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Red rum soothes the taste buds of men
Who dream to forget
Abandoning the choice-- to heal

At night they run rampant searching for the meal
In the morning they face the light

And at last they feel

The heat spilling over their shoulders
Saturating the frozen ground on which they kneel
Neighbors surround in chorus
And sing of the strung ones' loss

To fill the empty cup
Left after a solemn toss
The coin flips
And clangs to the frosted stone
The words will not claim
What's left will not condone

Sin the iced vapor bears
Spreads red on a cerise town
The rolling fog fled
Over the hard, opaque past

Alas

He came
He claimed
He cowered

To the white-dusted rock he bows
And over him it towers

Out pours his translucent pane
Cleared gold and silken rain

A reflection shines back amidst the luster
Of the sane man who silently bared to muster
The shield of wicker-woven shame,

now
Given from him to you

Written in the walls are the stories of the untold
And covered under skin are souls that beat bold
A shot at the skies of endless blue
Emblazoned in hearts; now create anew

The crest of a stormy wave breaks over the shallow beach
And the off-season dove calls out to the most angry of people
To still the rage of a premature and empty end
And stoke the fire brought forth by impudent men

Look out over the crashing azure
And bathe in the fold
The shades hold only the ones who know
What happened in that little square
And what color is dyed in the snow

In the Garden Primeval, where I'll pray for you.Where stories live. Discover now