Old Fodder

Here's a slightly older one I wrote just before summer started. I'm still waiting on finishing the edits for my series, once I get that done a lot of new work will flow out as well.

Phantom Limbs and Peripheries

The ghost man marches before the gloom of morn,
before the dew settles, and a new world born.
He is many shades of darkness, walking and unable to be caught.
Evaporating in front of eyes which may only visualize
something that resembles an aerated ink blot.
He treads like a visual whisper among the mist.

The ghost man is missing a limb,
walking through the mortuary with one arm.
He gropes at the gap in his missing rib,
but with no eyes, he cannot see that he is condemned.
As he wanders away from the north star,
the wind rises, and with it the dust.
Ignorance is enlightened, out of our reach
heaven stretches infinitely far.

This lost man is only ever found in the corner of one’s eye.
When once his disfigured form meets history
his shadowy body blurs and blends with the sky.