MusingsPoetry

Ghost

Let the soul of man be hearkened
To the oddity of the other realm
Like a figurine shadow in the darkness
It’s frightening a gazing sight from a gothic helm

Listen to this erroneous conviviality
The prey that preys on its predator
As an empty baggage of an imperialist
Its oversight the waist taxes of a creditor

Let all the perks be wiped out from the pictures
And all the indications be diagnosed
Divulge the hide out of the strictures
For all the bumps is just a ghost

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