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Feb 2018
The ravens catch wind of my secrets,
Hidden words veiled from light.
A ghost wandering through the yard,
A frantic hand scrambles for his pen.

Specter that drifts among all,
The sleep walker slouches with
The rest, but life had long lost
It’s interest.

Eyes of lemur, tilted to the side
As if to inquire the dark.
Inward voice and scattering wind
Dry leaves blown down the empty street.

Ghost man with his ghost hands
Greek warriors in their horse, invading Trojan Lands.
Thoughts reaching sky and the stars
Sending their replies, condolences.
Nick Stiltner
Written by
Nick Stiltner  23/M/Tx
(23/M/Tx)   
278
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