Ghost
The silent wind... a mere chill
The leaves were swaying back and forth
The inactive time is simply unreal
Yet mysteries abound be intimate to solve
The blackness promises to be blind
A darkness where lights were a fade
A glimmer perhaps if hope shall find
Yet too early may in turn be too late
So much like a dream
A familiarity needless to convey
The vanishing ghost shall mean
Yet wandering invisibly to never show the way
Wondering once too often
Illusions appear and disappear altogether
Speed were dissolving moments
As will sound be resounding forever
Once more, once again, once remain
The sway of the night shadowing the light
Mysteries unbound yet became
That of time where the ghost in us hide
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