How can normal, rational
people
All lust after ghosts one night,
Like the moon on some church steeple
Luring demons to its light?
Old fears lie buried in our pleasure,
Words sealed in a midnight grave,
Each a truth that we must treasure,
Eerie horrors our hearts crave.
Nor should we all our passions pave.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use. |