Ghosts

Ghosts

Cold ghosts from the grave

Clawing up with rose colored glass

Only to slither under skin

Feeling warm, then reminds of sin

Come at me, defiant one

Trick me with your violent pun

For I will always see

The truth in you

Blackened

Fetching

Luring

The prince you think you are

Not true

For you

Are nothing; death destroying

Disguised as diamonds

Under rotting flesh

Stealing from others

Incapable of feeling

Light shines through your guise

For in reality you are far from wise

So try as you may, to sway and disguise

Truth will prevail

It will be you who dies.

©️shassyswalkabout.com

Ghosts from the past

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