There Is A Vacant Ghost In The Chapel Poem by Mark Heathcote

There is a vacant ghost in the chapel.
Too frightened to leave trembling with fear.
He's rocking in a pew sometimes in the pulpit too.
Talking about hell fire, the devil's deceiving choir
Clutching his hands together in prayer

This ghost has lived in the shadows.
This ghost has lived in booze blood delusion and desire.
This ghost has lived in a wrecked drowning quagmire
Counting his sins and writing about his misery
In cantos like Dante's Divine Comedy

There is this vacuous ghost holding on to a promise
Like a lost fleeting sparrow in the snow
Cast out from the sun watching simple blue moonlight
Drinking liquor from a can, hoping for salvation
He the Lord will hold his life in balance -favourable after all.

There is a tear on his cheek every evening he's alone.
Praying for every man and some answers to his soul
Counting his sins and writing about his misery
In cantos like Dante's Inferno in a rejection of sin
He's kicking that can further and further down the road.
He's kicking that can further and further down the road.

He's living just for the sun, living just for the sun.
Like a lost fleeting sparrow in the snow
Cast out from the sun watching simple blue moonlight
Drinking liquor from a can, hoping for salvation
He the Lord will hold his life in balance -favourable after all.
He's burrowing down in his chapel once again
Singing amen, amen.
Too frightened to leave trembling with fear.
He's rocking in a pew sometimes in the pulpit too.
Talking about hell fire, the devil's deceiving choir
Clutching his hands together in prayer once again.