Sunday, November 20, 2011

The Ghost

The blue clothed sky, God's colander
From darker it grows to bland and blander
And through the holes star light seeps
Fading as the ink blue runs naught deep
And in the city,  a ghost. 

The grey walled urban filthy maze
Crones and cultured women in lace
Filth of the earth in the cracks of the road
Grime coated sky, leaden grey load
And through this mess, a ghost

Glowing women otherwise wrinkled
White red faces, frosting sprinkled
Chatoyant jewels, glistening hair
Chitter chatter in the city's fair
And amongst them, the ghost.

Muted colours of the flags flying high
He walks the Earth, the end is nigh
His face saddened, despair how grave
Bound in iron, forever a slave
And so he weepeth, the ghost. 

Upon this Earth forever to wander
Never beyond the hills o'er yonder
Cursed he is, and he payeth his price
Heart broken being, imperfect splice
He roams the crowd, the ghost.

The blue clothed sky, God's colander
From darker it grows to bland and blander
And in the sunlight, a shimmer of white
Barely seen, a speck so bright
Wandereth the lonely ghost. 

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