Eerie sounds of the music box
shivers of goosebumps rise like yeast
as the coyote howls to the blue moon
the mist creeps in with silent footsteps in mind
rising spirits of the graves
gate clattering, whining under a clear night sky
as the skeletons of trees bow down
as that thought comes haunting back
with more scare to make
since these lonely spirits cry for help
disturbed as they may seem
they are just as beautiful as snow
just as cold as the negatives are not counted by mistake
dancing in the pale moonlight
with candelabrums lit so lightly
with these spirits
floating with grace
but with no wings
around and around they go
like a merry-go-round
never ending sadness with bubbles of gloom
but they're not all what they appear
cuz they have feelings too
second this, second that
with this cycle forever repeating
help another in need
listen with care
paint, make, create
these ghosts just like being, just like you, in need
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem