Ghost of Christmas Past
I must go out and ride tonight
With a moon in her dreamy grace,
To search once more with second sight
There along the precipice of night,
For something softly sighing
In the shadow of another face,
Where a message has been drawn for me,
In lines deep of karma’s lessons true
Across the exile of a thousand lives ~
The way-stations of a lonely soul
Where all the light there was left,
Was a single scythe sharp and cold
Beating cryptic runes of an ancient will,
Into heart desires I alone wish to fulfill.
My spirit you have taunted now
With time-lapse visions of tomorrow,
And more lost now than ever to be lost
Am I were I understood!
Confusion takes the reigns as I ride
Out into the darkness seeking day,
To haunt the twilight and thirst the dawn,
I am mocked by a ghost of its cruel way,
As you play upon my tarot’s keys,
And tell me of my future mysteries.
I lay quietly in my oar-less boat,
Close my eyes and care not to stay afloat,
If what I gathered of the cosmic truth,
Now in age mocks the vision of my youth.
My soul to darkest ash enfolds to a rose,
And commemorates my restless ghost,
Dessicated and dried as it stares ahead,
Masked again to fall into a heavy birth
Again of crying and the hopes of mirth ~
A ghost still and still tethered to this earth!