Ghost Recurrence

Certain poetry in past view of the world An oeuvre beneath my talents, yet above my morals Ceased are the days of waste for I represent myself All extremes I endorse as I move from reticence to clamor Betwixt those two verges, a ghost appears And her eyes now glare in moonlight Reflecting the passion felt once before In the midst of crusts of snow A sight of otherworldly glow An argent dirk she draws from my chest Which she hands to me No words she speaks, no words she yearns for The sharpened steel I grip, as I brace for a trade of blows I, I think I feel nothing as your blade's touch Carves a slit into my trachea But the eyes still sway in moonlight Reflecting the passion felt once before In the midst of crusts of snow A sight of otherworldly glow Our blood blends with the silver soil And dream of stars rewinds the hours to foregone days of ours Forging paradigms of false Latching weapons from my sight Dying won't atone these deeds For sowed are the vilest of seeds Resting in her hand, a blade of virtue Piercing my skin of evil, a cry, an unsought reprisal Let us both die, the blood is painting the walls Ardent exiles, now we both have became Dying misfits, the pain is weighting too much No more struggle, the dream returns In this chamber beneath the quilts Hands sleep together and wait this night Soundless winter behind the walls Kindled are the hours in this new abode And the eyes still glare in moonlight Reflecting the passion I still feel now In the midst of crusts of snow A sight of otherworldly glow Her figure eerie yet sublime A spectacle to be witnessed for a lifetime