WE ARE MANY

By Soft White Glow

My anaemic will retires

Behind blinding fantasy –

Tired, numb from birth,

My shadow limps behind me.

Chained to a crack in eternity,

Together we serve, unseen,

Unheard, hesitating endlessly

At the borders of old dreams.

With trembling tongues

We greet our ghosts

That linger on the threshold

Between shadow and form.

We are many, frail

Servants to the dead world;

We are many –

We claim our skeletal throne.

We wear the rusted crown of disbelief

Upon our cadaverous head.

We watch our shadows grow thin,

        Dissolve,

Whispering secret prayers

In the language of the dead;

We are many, living

In horrific fantasy.

#darkpoetsclub