Limbo
Limbo
The spirits of which I speak
The images I see
Are not the ghosts of death
But of reality
The vampires of the heart
The werewolves of the mind
Are not from out the tomb
Death is not unkind
These haunt the Earth by daylight
They feed upon a fear
A fear they find in living
Limbo is their sphere
The forms they hold are human
The blood they drink still lives
Eating out the souls
Of all save negatives
Who can rid us of them?
How long can we fight?
When spirits can't be killed
Unless they're of the night
Copyright © Jane Vandoe | Year Posted 2020
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