Stare into me.
Flare up and fly to me.
My ghostly gaze falls into your eyes,
Let these phantom fingers caress your curves,

Our ethereal tangle,
As we pass through reality
Into the hills and valleys on our bodies,

Close your eyes,
And see me with your skin.

Intoxicate me with your sinful quivers,
As I ride on the highways of your sighs.

Come closer,
And I'll show you a differently perfect side of our world.



~Robert van Lingen

Little lady next
door dressed in 1920
long grey skirt and blouse

goes out everyday
with her hair tied in a bun
wearing black boot shoes

she quietly walks the
pavements amoungst a lot of
other people

buildings seem so big
no horse and cart just metal
things with four wheels

no kids play outside
so smiley happy go
lucky children

instead she sees a glow
from each child's hand , there eyes
engrossed in something!!

yet the sky stays the same
just differs in colours , clouds appear happy or sad

the sun shines the moon
glows and stars continue to
twinkle starry bright

trees never change ,  she
smiles at natures will to never
change its beauty

a China man bumps
into her , they both stare for
a second or two

then off they walk on
pavements amoungst a lot
of other people

Out of the blue
And into the black
A thought passed through my head
It was you who crossed my heart
And went right out
The exit wound

sometimes i think the shades are Grey are moving
where all these weeping sound of wind are creeping
chills and spine when i'm all alone
might be  some staring
sometimes they are singing under a moonlight
i don't know maybe i'm imagining stuff night
when dogs are barking non stop all day
thats when they come
to take
or to claim
they are here to stay.

A home of fallen dreams
and wishes made upon dead stars
of feathers and fungal dreams
brushing gently your tendril wings
rearranging your wisps of hair
like ghostly fingers
in thin air

In the graveyard chapel
With the candle wicks nearly extinguished
Was a black dog who guards the grave of his master
Who's bond to this world is relinquished

Old bones sit in the mausoleum near by
Do the dead ever come back to the land of the living?
Sometimes the dog barks at seemingly nothing
But on Samhain when the divide between the dead and living is so thin
The ghosts of the deceased inhabit their homes again

The faint murmurs of voices heard a long time ago
The dog barks and the ghost light glows
People never seem to believe
Deceived by their own scientific nature
But if you stare into the mirror at Samhain
You can see the image of those who have passed

Maybe heaven or hell is not enough for these spirits to fit in?
Long forgotten souls their grave stones unwritten by time
Eroded away like the decaying of time
Youths flower fades into dust...