nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

THE MANTLED GHOST

Its hard
To say goodbye
Reflection trapped
Times flickering eye
Each footstep
Or touch of hands
Lays surrendered
In sleeping sands.

The passing night
Hours postpone
Each idle heartbeat
Strikes far from home
Each lonely moment
To carry forth
Midnight touches
Calls forlorn.

Invisible fingers
Now outstretched
To a wanton peak
Unimpressed
In solitude
Tears weep
A mantled ghost
Burning deep.