Born A Ghost
written by: Michael Murdoch
@TwistingTail
A shadow of a memory of a man
The concept of release
Just out of hand
We clutch as a newborn
Without skill
When all is beyond
We fall in step
Falter on a beaten path
We are the dirt under foot
With a breath of rarified air I breathe
Knowing the gift is not a gift, but a loan
Haunted, by my own hollow
I was born a ghost, incomplete, I roam
By day
I waste
I stir the waking hours
But night
Oh, night
I cast a gastly
Sight
Ethereal guilt
Draped in ghostly dread
Expunged of life
Summons life for the undead
There is the secret to living after death
Die unfulfilled and live the life unlived while alive
Born beneath the Southern Cross, Michael Murdoch a.k.a. the mouse, is a poet and fiction writer, who chased love to his new home under the Northern Lights. He resides in Helsinki with his wife and three children. You can find a selection of his works at his home away from home, The Twisting Tail.
Latest posts by Michael Murdoch (see all)
- Fibonacci: The Power of Poetry - November 10, 2021
- We Are Home - August 10, 2021
- Born A Ghost - May 31, 2021
