Lingering in the shadows
we keep our silence in check
and balances
weightless and deep
we watch the beyond
wondering what draws us in
to the view of colors
through glass pane lives.
Helpless we stand on the line
never stepping into the shades of grey
where the light falls mid day
afraid of being seen
in the company of the mirage
heartless bodies of the walking dead,
we force the energy out
saving it for the gift
into the good souls of those who draw near,
trying to find the piece
left behind.
Ghosts and goblins walked the floors
and we only sense emptiness
for we have become the phantoms
that haunt the self,
feeling the vibes of the darkness
we become as plants
filtering to set free
oxygen-like words to calm,
to soothe the frayed edges
rippled through time and space
we come to bear witness
and tell…
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Hellenic Canadian Literature 