The Ghost…

~

He’s got kind eyes…
And a gentle heart…

But a sinner’s mind…
And his soul is dark…

Tried the right way…
But seduced by the wrong…

A well-trodden path…
Since the day he was born…

Into a splintered world…
Fractured in two…

Carrying years of anger…
And such sadness too…

It eats away at him…
Like a cancer inside…

And he can’t remember…
The last time he cried…

He just bottles it up…
And locks it all away…

With no hint nor trace…
It’s always been this way…

Because he’s so nonchalant…
And calm on the outside…

Managing to cover it all up…
With each and every lie…

It can’t ever be helped…
Or even nursed better…

It’s a constant presence…
Like an unwritten letter…

To the ones he loved…
In some final confession…

Detailing all the mistakes…
And his wrong decisions…

As he was fast asleep…
With his mind wide open…

Stumbling through life…
Knowing something was broken…

Something deep down…
That could never be fixed…

Whilst he walks this Earth…
In a trance and bewitched…

By all those feelings…
Hidden in his heart…

Whilst a sinner’s mind…
Keeps his soul so dark…

Disowned by the Gods…
Cast out into Hell…

A man who sold his soul…
For a ride on Satan’s carousel…

~

©Eyewillnotcry1973

Inspired by the song “Pour Le Monde” By Crowded House

 

“I can keep a secret and throw away the key…

~

Tell me what is wrong…

Tell me what’s on your mind…

I know you’re not OK…

Please, please stop crying…

You know you can talk to me…

You know you’re safe in here…

Tell me all your dreams…

And confide all your fears…

I promise I can help you…

We’ll take it at your pace…

You can open up to me…

I’ll wipe the tears from your face…

Between us we can mend you…

Put the pieces back together…

Take the weight off your back…

You’ll feel lighter than a feather…

I’ll help you to be strong…

Just put your trust in me…

I’ll guide you from this dark place…

And help your eyes to see…

Are you listening to me…

Please, please don’t turn away…

I’ve been where you are now…

I’ve faced my darkest day…

I know what you are going through…

I’ve been through this before…

But I didn’t handle it well…

They picked me up off the floor…

And carried my lifeless body…

As I watched from high above…

Singing with the angels…

Flying high with the doves…

But they won’t allow me further…

Not until I try to help you…

Can you hear my words…

This is what I have to do…

Because I’m stuck in limbo…

Floating in the wind and rain…

You have to let me do this…

Please release me from my pain…

Can you hear me…

Are you listening…

Please…

Please…

~

“Am I being a good boy, am I your pride and joy”…

~

She’s been dead eight years…
But walks with him each day…

And as he closes his eyes…
He remembers her little ways…

The look she would give…
When she wasn’t impressed…

The things she would do…
To keep his soul oppressed…

Never providing any support…
Or praise when things went right…

Not showing an ounce of love…
It felt like a constant fight…

To gain any of her approval…
That would make him feel secure…

She was always so damn negative…
And it seemed she would ensure…

That he never felt positive…
By projecting her own misery…

Taking the fun out of his life…
If she wasn’t happy, neither was he…

And in her last few days…
She could be so scathing…

So when she finally passed…
He felt so free, so amazing…

Like a weight had been lifted…
Given the chance to escape…

But it didn’t last for long…
As his feelings turned to hate…

When she kept on appearing…
Her bitter voice in his head…

Haunting from the grave…
The ongoing legacy of the dead…

As she’s been dead eight years…
But when he closes his eyes…

She is stood there before him…
Using words to abuse and criticise…

Casting a constant shadow…
On all that he achieves…

And this ongoing mental battle…
Is slowly forcing him to his knees…

~

“He’ll appear out of nowhere, but he ain’t what he seems”…

~

With unseen, undead faces…
These ghosts don’t make a sound…
Hidden in dark cold spaces…
Beneath our feet, deep underground…
 
They prefer to inhabit shadows…
Avoiding the day and bright sunlight…
No reflection appears in the windows…
As they prowl and control the night…
 
With a rampant taste for blood…
Stemming from a dark and ancient time…
They somehow survived the great flood…
Never paying for their heinous crimes…
 
Condemned with a never ending curse…
That began with such a sexually charged kiss…
Now it’s an unquenchable thirst…
Their old life they will never miss…
 
They appear seductive and emotional…
As they feed off our human life force…
To their leader they’re devotional…
And show their victims no remorse…
 
The blood has stained their Red right hands…
It’s been that way throughout the years…
These creatures walk across our land…
Killing our hopes, drinking our tears…

But nothing now can stop them…
Not holy water, wooden stake or hells fire…
We may judge and then condemn….
But our souls they will aquire…

With unseen, undead faces…
Silent screams echo all around…
As the fire still brightly blazes…
Hearts burn upon holy ground…

~

Photo by Yann G