The foul-smelling ghost of a breath left
Upon the glass, proof of some theft
Will live on to relive the stealthy night,
Stories of missing treasures to find…
Ghouls of darkness will whisper no lie;
It will scream and shriek their might!
And I will merely mumble my fears
And crumble under the wearing linger
Of the omniscient fallacy called disguise…
But who will they weep for upon my demise?
Lies demean before your eyes,
They shriek with the living
And plead with the dying…
They reveal your secrets underlying
The professed sanctity of your Life.
Yet you forsake your only time,
Your second chance, your last trial…
Death shall only erase the triumphs
Of your vice upon the scars…
Never will it redeem your hands
Of the blunders that taint your chance…
Your fear remains in the confessions…
At the end, your single lone possession
And by the time your life whirls away…
Your only breathing and gasping prey…
Their treasures, your obsession,
Their loss and your cremation.
The night stands too still…
While a sage sings of Heaven…
The wind cleanses their sills
While we reap our ashes...
