Ghost at Midnight

One or two questions, a matter faith From a lost chain smoking wraith. I feel a sickness, a nausea of spirit The pathology leaving my will bereft. Vomit arrested in my gut. Mind abandoned in a rut. It had been hours I was there Looking with a long lost stare The rocks below did not invite Material indifference despite My wish to believe in the All-Soul The Spirit making us part of a whole. But the rocks were hard and sharp As I leaned forward toward the scarp. And I looked below waiting to fall Wanting to go yet here I stall In anger and sadness I think of the worm Burrowed in my heart, madness The result of the despairing germ. The timer started the day I was born The inevitable end is the human norm. My clock was set short there’s no doubt Hasten by the worm I talk about. It invaded my heart long ago I live day to day with sorrow to show. “Some day but not today” I turned around and say Taking the first step I knew The worm eventually eat all Of my heart, then I’ll fall.