I live in their country
but
I don't see the scenery
from their eyes
for
they have glass eyes
in different colours
reflecting
the transparency of
living ghosts
and
empty words from soulless minds
tombed in cold breaths
riddled
in icy vapour smoke screens
as dead whispers to the living
as
the ambergris fantasies of the undead
history
has taken everything said and saying
and poured them down their cancerous throats
no
remission for the cloudy from the clouds above
the
living ghosts and the glass-eyed ghost are not gods
mere matter only matter as matter
the only True Ghost is the Holy Ghost