deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Light Passing
The night I died a ghost was born.
Roaming an earth that's never been so forlorn.
From an unsteady light, I shied with doubt.
Closer to the comfort of darkness until it strobes out.
Empty castles now I roam.
Just as in life I am alone.
Floating past a wardrobe, moth eaten.
Drift past a mirror reflect a frightful cretin.
I moan and yell to whom I do not know.
Bleating like a dying lamb pecked by a crow.
Death was comfort, solace, and clarity.
Or so it was sold by those begging charity.
Death was nothing. An energy phasing to pass.
As told by those whom teach a class.
None of those things do I see or feel,
as I drift here on the desolate keel.
Passing through locked doors without needing a key.
I am still here, but I am not me.
I am not here because you cannot see.
Acceptance has shunned itself from me.
Not gone nor relieved.
Not here nor reprieved.
To the wash eraseable,
wishing I had been a mark irreplaceable.
Published 13th May 2014
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