A Silent Messenger

When bludgeoned fell the mornings might and parlous was the gloomy night, the pillars of eve had moved away, did horrors in the courtyard play; Within a cold and vacant street did night a man-less shadow greet, rebellious each whose futile breath, (the conquerors of our life and death) these moistened not his weary form, a phantom shy of bodies norm. a while it stood as silence still as though it would my soul distill, far it stood, and my eyes did pave the concept of a haunted grave, proceeded it five feet or some then not a steps did closer come. I pondered deep and long I gazed and more than frightened was amazed, expired the nightlight through his pose as dim it stood from head to toes, beyond the fog I dare express was ground above its nothingness! Not taking up the human grace, the size, voice, or even a face! This image not our form desired, then turned and from the fog retired, this phantom declined our display and slowly, surely moved away. It thus upon this nightly stage did shame the mankind to an age where innocence the ghosts do bear and even they this Lost race fear. R.N.Khan, © 2013