A Home for Ghosts
When you believe in ghosts
Every house is haunted
Restless spirits pervade the spaces
In between hope and fear
The silent echoes of the past
Ignite our imagination
And drive us, screaming, toward that place
Where shades and specters toil in loops
The abyss is always staring into you
You only notice when you're looking into it
When solemn eyes devise the path
To your destruction
And the only way out is down
Because you're falling
Through
Into
a pit with no bottom
The center of which is a heart
That forgot how to beat
The first hell was born of troubled sleep
All other hells proceed from it
The shades that inhabit this space
Become circuits of despair
Predictable
Like the motions of a planet
Like Sysiphus’ boulder rolling again
Down the incline
To what extent we are like
An endlessly repeating script
We are in hell
To what extent we desire to be seen
We are a ghost
To what extent we are a ghost
We are a home for ghosts
No comments:
Post a Comment