Ghosts

The ghosts of our old ways fill these halls
Lost friendships and riddled thoughts walk past
Memories of good and bad color these walls
I’m wondering: Is it worthy to worry, if you won’t last?
I’m seeing familiar faces, reminiscing of outdated places

The ghosts of four years wander on by
Yesterday’s versions of you and I
The hollow figures overcome the ground floor
The deeper I explore the white corridors
So many mistakes and outcomes, so many unspoken tongues

Change is apparent to the parent of looking back
But those stuck in reverse, progress they lack

The ghosts are reminders of pain and forgotten pleasure
They’re the friends who trod in the shallows
Who avoid the depths and mistake the door for treasure
They’re the lost versions of I at the gallows
But in everything there is an Eden, in everything a Place of Demons

The ghosts are nothing but a departed haunting
Unable to reach today, so to worry is exhausting
There’s no worth in attention for those unwilling
To remain in your life, so to forgive is fulfilling
Hear His words over theirs: “Peace awaits Upstairs”

Ends are only quiet explosions to new beginnings
Let go, let God, and find the ghostly visions thinning

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