Rummaging Through the Dead Lover's Drawers

Everyday ghosts are whispers in the light of day.
Echoes of veiled desires in an empty soul.
They hover over the routine in silence and agony.
They are shadows that follow us in the night and in the sea air.
 
The ghosts of desire, burning and hidden,
they dance in our dreams covered by thin veils.
They are flames that burn without being seen
in broken hearts, desires that haunt us on uncertain paths.
 
In haunted houses, endless stories,
spirals of mystery and fear where time has stopped.
There live the specters in the dark confines of love.
Where the past still lives and the present is silent.
 
Life is a theater of shadows, a reverse stage,
where each act is an echo of a submerged verse,
the reverses of the reverses are the bonds of the universe,
encased and eternal in a scattered poem.
 
So we wander between the living and the dead,
meaningless search, between what is seen and unseen,
the clear and the hidden.
We are all travelers pursued by ghosts,
on the journey of existence, for extended time.
 
In the dance of days, ghosts cross walls,
with the threads of destiny, in weaves that embrace us.
They are memories and secrets that silently bind us
and lead us to question the truths that threaten.
 
Desires are ghosts that whisper in our ears,
promises of a tomorrow where everything is permitted,
but they are just illusions, in our lustful minds,
that leave us waiting for a promised future.
 
The houses with their specters of ancient stories
they keep echoes of lives in their friendly walls.
They are refuges for souls that take shelter among the dust
and they tell us, in whispers, their ancient legends.
 
Life follows its course with its ups and downs.
Every moment lived is a scattered ghost
that haunts and enchants us with its mystery immersed
and teaches us that time is the wisest of contexts.
 
Between the real and the fantastic our existence grows
with the threads of the visible and what the mind desires.
We are made of moments that warm the heart
and of ghosts that we love and on our chests they fall asleep.