A Moving Ghost

A moving ghost that we can’t see
Has stained our world with death.
It roams around perfectly free,
While I run out of breath.

The stains cannot be taken out,
the ink is in too deep.
Voices break into screams and shouts,
For those they could not keep.

A moving ghost that we can’t see
Has stained our world with fear.
They try to catch it as it flees,
I know my end is near.

A modern form of hell is made,
where we are never free.
The ghost lives in a lifeless shade,
its right here next to me.

A moving ghost that we can’t see
Has stained our world with strain.
Many trying to find the key
to break its unseen chain.

And when they do take out the stains
because we know they will,
Enjoy the time of broken chains,
the ink will one day spill.

A Moving Ghost

A man in blue comes up to me
and checks the white machine.
I ask him where my wife could be
as he looks at the screen.

A moving ghost that we can’t see
Has stabbed my heart with pains.
With her again I’ll never be,
The ink runs through her veins.

Sometimes I think I see the ghost
as the shade takes me in.
I know I am closer than most,
this fight I will not win.

A moving ghost that we can’t see
Has united us all,
I’ll give a hand to those in need,
even if I must fall.