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Wednesday, 25 April 2012

Words From a Ghost



Interestingly, it’s a conversation between some lone traveler and a spectre of some former ferocity.  Of course, at the end the ghost laments that he is no longer a power in the material sense.  When he, himself, recognizes Satan’s call the ghost fears it not.



I fought for glory,

The glory of the Empire,

I was born a soldier

And I fought for the Empire.



I fought on horseback,

I fought on foot.

Over half a thousand battles

And as many corpses I’ve stood.



I’ve killed peasants,

I’ve killed kings.

I’ve spilt much blood,

Entrails and things.



I carried scars on my chest,

And scars on my back,

I have been very rich,

I have been on the rack.



But to you the traveler,

At these crossroads,

I should not have spoken,

Nor unburdened my woes.



For now I am called,

To Satan’s fiery Gate…

You see he is angry,

No longer will he wait.



A final message,

To you, O man,

Could I kill,

I would again.

2 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Thank you Yvonne. I wrote it a while ago, so I can't even remember what inspired it.

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