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.