Greeting Ghosts

When the stars align
And magpies traverse a velvet sky
A bridge of gods design
Manifests in invisible dye

A lonely night rolls on
In the din of desperation
Quietly, silence mourns
With golden moonlight striations

Holding a vitriolic gaze
At beauty and horror intangible
To all senses a haze
So underwhelmingly incredible

Movement, a shudder, a fit
A slightly wobbly leaning
As the insubstantial sits
To convey some clandestine meaning

Sifting through dimensions
Never truly existing anywhere
Avoiding all mention
Of that transient, unsettling air

Cleanly slicing through
All we have known stored
False promises to he who
Would kill for a lord

Repetitions of loaded words
Lose their weight in the sea
Of white cats and black birds
From which we flee reality

The mist absorbs it all
All alike within burn
And dissipates as time stalls
Never to return

Inebriated and drifting
Through looming tenebrous kin
Kept alive by an uplifting
Lie, inferiority to pin

Upon every tree in the woods
A lumbering travesty
Loaded with nonexistent good
To openly greet tragedy

It floats across the grass
And swirls in the mire
Comes down on the blindingly fast
And sets all afire

Amidst a blaze uncertain
With no dark through which to discern
Embodying a blinding curtain
To curb sanity's return

Falling from the stars
Curious and burning bright
Incarcerated behind a mind's bars
By decree of a fake light

An imaginary haze's host
Stumbles with whited sight
Fruitlessly greeting ghosts
Under the soft starlight

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This blog seriously needs a revival.