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?