Ghosts that whisper in the faint ear of time
To tell it that death is not far behind
Fables beckon to float above clouds
As pride takes refuge in persistence unbowed
The wind of a flame cavorts with a spark
It\'s danger and beauty not that far apart
As the whispers get louder and the ghosts reappear
And the fables that beckoned emerge as sincere
The death that once was not far behind
Has ventured beyond the still virtues of time