A Vibrant Ghost – Post Five-Hundred-Seventy-Three

A past reflection swims through a maze,
Vibrance is its bothersome whim.
It speaks in riddles and laughs in gold,
All the while screaming passion that died long ago.

It sweeps through your dreams,
and haunts your shadows.
It slithers through nightmares
and caresses your wishes.

Day dreams, Night fears,
A vibrant ghost has come to sleep.
It wakes the skeleton that lingers in your closet
Bringing to life what you thought had been buried.


Au revoir,



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