In the soft and slender shadows
Lays a shape, that of a ghost.
With its voice, piercing as arrows
It calls for me; I am the host
Of the hellish moon-lit trance

In which we
ever so vaguely
Dance.

Oh, the taste of sweet surrender;
That is what I love the most!
As light spews forth from the ember -
Does it roar out in a boast? -
It just fills the room

In a manner
ever so vaguely
Tender.

And the ghost politely bows
Giving an apologetic sigh
For its rudeness just now
As it's too late to deny

That it
shall be leaving
(ever so vaguely)
soon.

Such a jest, but of the mind
Happens often in the quill.
I shall try to say this in a manner kind
But you'll find it quite harsh still

That we
should be
(ever so vaguely)
worthy of disdain
for this game we play endlessly in vain.