Poetry #99: Muffled Ghost Carnival

Days drifing incessantly in and out

Ghosts, transient and muffled abstract figures

Representing the days inside this cage

Weeks have lost their meaning

Reality falling and unseaming

A ghost driving a meat coated skeleton, made from stardust

The abyss of the unknown, when we’re going to make our exits

One day we shall pass away from this carnival with all it’s masks and roles

And only a few transient props will be left after us

Until they too are swept away, under the rug of cosmic expansion

We will step out of time, what we call reality.

~DiosRaw 11/02/21 10:06AM

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