Speaking ghosts

Last words of a dying man muttered silence to forget,

lips moving so still eyes looking around in regret.

Shameful life tormented by his ghosts,

only he can see what devilry was made.

On broken glass he sits under hell in his eyes,

a gift of life for most, but not in him.

A ring in his hands to let go of the pain,

sustaining life in this game of no more.

A sentence carried out under his dreams,

where the choice he made is tattooed in his heart.

Too weak to hold onto her hand as she fell,

to her death, into his hell.

Seeing her face brings more than tears to this man,

while her body plummets to the rocks below.

He cries at night whilst laying on their bed,

nightmares when awake to a song that never ends.

Screaming her name aloud for none to hear,

while he watches the video of his last words to her.

With more love in him now than he ever wanted to feel,

her ghostly smile speaks what he doesn’t want to know.

“Let me go”, she says with tears bleeding from inside,

frozen where he lay, he can’t say anything at all.

Just before his eyes close he remembers who she was,

an angel of love for a man without a soul.











Johnny Newell