People move in and out of life like ghosts,
Then they just fade off in early winter snow.
Buried between the buildings with shining tags
Like setting sun gleaming to get darken at end;
At last fading into nothingness with bright spring.
New leaves hiding the unmarked graves, making them invisible.
Shadow of memories blossoming yet remains forgotten.
Moving like phantom between the walls.
A phantom well known and well lived yet never be seen.
People move in and out of life like ghosts
Drifting away in autumn with footsteps walking away,
Rushing towards the invisible fire lengthening the shadows.
Like birds returning at evening, flying early with all hopes.
Leaving behind trail of feathers, scattered everywhere,
Sun singeing them brutally into cinders, to be carried by tired butterflies.
People move in and out of life like ghosts
Leaving a wisp of lily in the seething summer air.
Tantalized for more but yielding for none yet vaporizing with each breath,
Craving for never ending corporeal appetite.
Ghosts they are neither man nor woman,
Beating heart which recognize neither brute nor human.