The Ghost

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So I do this,
As the hair stands,
On the back of my neck.

I’m scared,
I’m shivering,
And my mind’s a wreck.

I think it’s because,
I’ve never felt,
Like this before.

I see that shadow,
Of that ghost,
And now I’m sure.

People say,
They don’t believe,
In this.

But I do,
Because it fills me up,
With bliss.

It gives me,
Something to,
Believe in.

Since when,
Is believing,
A sin?

I want to feel,
Like this,
Forever.

The human race and them,
We’re again one,
Together.





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