And then there were none
But their shadows linger Dance upon the corona
Of the depthless greyness
Whispers of troubled instance
Empty souls without form
Lost to resonance and sight
But they walk among us again
Reanimate as ghastly shapes
Supernatural marching soldiers
Across the plains of existence
Searching for forgiveness
Or new battles with destiny
They come as unwelcome guests
To disturb dogs* and sleep
They watch us for weakness
From the shadowed corners
And they come only in winter
When the dark holds sway
* I wrote this last night because the dog came running upstairs,
jumped on the bed and after waking me up began staring into a corner of the room
whimpering. It was all a bit unsettling so I picked up my pad and jotted down my
thoughts whilst calming the dog. Perhaps dogs sense things we cannot, but in the
end I went downstairs and let him out. Because to a dog a call of nature is more
important than any ghost. I swear if he became any cleverer he would install a bell
and ring it for me to come.
