Chasing ghosts

 

Feels like I’ve been

chasing ghosts for too long.

Those floating moments 

in between the solid foundations.

I've been listening for the tell-tale haunting tone, 

when the ghosts are home.

The drone that spreads through my head.

Remembering times

that are better left unsaid,

and times of spiritual enlightenment,

when the ghosts made me feel alive 

when I should have felt dead.

 

Feels like all of my life

I've been chasing ghosts

I walk the same old bones, the streets,

the tormented stones.

I've been in haunted houses

and cemeteries,

feeling their weight

pressing down on me.

where I heard their spectral moans.

 

Feels like I've been hunting

the haunting sounds

for so long now. I no longer

recognise the sound

of this world and its hunger.

Just the wails, as they fill my ears

when the ghosts hail.

To say come near.

 

Feels like I've been

seeking substance

in the silent

social society of ghostly life.

I've walked on the dark side,

and the light.

I've met demons and angels,

but the ghosts always

held me the closest.

Those phantom lips

the shear bliss

of their ghostly kiss,

before they fade,

into a vision unfocused.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love & Poetry 

 

Kyle