Your Ghost

Do I haunt the hall of your night?

I rattle my chains

I am the bump in the night

You don’t seem to move

The indication  of my presence eludes

My hazy outline pales in candlelight

Am I no more but a wrong kind of chill

Time drifts by my piece of your life

Limbo holds my being 

Nailed like molding on a wall

Does the wall know is even there?

I’ll wander those vacant halls. 

I’ll rattle my chains
I’ll bump things in the Night

Am I no more than your Ghost? 

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