I shunned the spirits now departed
denied their right to exist
spoke to the mirror with righteous ire
there is no such thing as ghosts
whispers from the edge of sight
deny the mantra I'll repeat
no matter how I spend my breath
the evidence denies the rant

curtains cloak the tall windows
the past portal of light's entrance
when they're opened I view a world
filled by fog of somber gray
the garden paths where I walked
circle back to stolid doors
the only way to return within
while the gates to the outside are barred

lighting the candles against the dark
denying space for lingering wraiths
chasing specters with feeble flame
even as I dread the truth
still the shadows fill the room
meeting mine as lovers would
hinting knowledge I dare to speak
lest I admit my life has ebbed

the departed have their realm
with the unhappy not yet passed
mirror of the living state
existing behind the veil of death
so many years have progressed
I've been lost in certainty
now I know the time has come
to realize that I'm the haunt.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180212.