Whisper Wood Drive

Whisper Wood Drive 11/8/2012

The world is crowded with ghosts
Walking in my footsteps
And snatching at my throat
Trying to trip me up
So they can watch me fall.

In the city they fly
Between the buildings
And up to the roofs
Soaring in and out
And shrieking in the night.

In the country
They hide in the forest
Behind the tree trunks
And in the tree limbs
Silent and black.

I listen for the voices
But they are hard to hear
Those left behind
And those conveniently forgotten.

I wonder what they think of me
And I wonder what they dream
With their blood still on the ground
And their bodies blown to bits.

They are here
And just as real
As you and me
Except they see what we cannot
And so much more.

They see the truth
While we see
What we want
And they see everything
While we see nothing.

We beat a dead horse
And they cling to the past
Unable to let go
And unable to escape.

Behold our fate
As tragic as the rest
Still chained to the past
And all the old wounds.

Howl at the moon
And shout at the living
Because they will never listen
To the lessons of the fallen
And the dreams of the past.

I sleep in a bed
With Ghosts in my thoughts
Creeping back into the present
Underneath the covers
And inside of my head.

Telling me things I never knew
And stroking my hair
Softly whispering that I am loved
And all is well.

They are free
But I am asleep
As dead to the world
As I am to me.