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Escaping Death

(written in a mental hospital) 

I escaped from Death today, 
And I don't know what to think. 
Because when Death comes round and round, 
you start to feel his scent and stink. 
There are others counting on me now.
I can't let them down, this I know. 
So close to Death and yet, so certain-
now I'm back to life, if just a little while 
to finally pull back the curtain. 

Still others only see- the ghost 
that walks these halls forbidden. 
I don't know how to talk to them, 
the horseless carriage is hidden. 
My pen feels broken, 
still it flies against the page once more. 
Swirling new tales in ink and bone. 
Yet my ghost, she still sings for home. 

Morality and death
hang over me. 
Still, I'm used to these things. 
I try to speed up the hour I'm closest to hell. 
But as I creep ever slow, 
the witch rings her last bell. 

You can only listen to a cd once, 
then the magic is gone. 
But it still lingers in your ears, 
in the mind and in heaven
their voices still ring on.

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