The ghosts that
travel these southern streets,
The old as well as
new,
Have gathered to
haunt this ancient house
What am I to do?
I can hear them walk
along my halls
They took my mirrors
down.
But one promised me
just last night
That death doesn’t
make a sound.
I don’t know why they
come to me
But each one has its
needs.
Some search in vain
for lovers lost
Others rebel against misdeeds.
All I can do is let
them in
And open up my heart.
But none will speak
of what they’ve seen
Or why they can’t
depart.
It makes me wonder if
it’s a trick
To lure me to the
grave.
Red brick dust and a
bible worn
Are all I have to
save.
So if the midnight
comes and swallows me
I’ll know this was my
fate.
I’ll join with those
who took my home
In the perils we
create.
No comments:
Post a Comment