ghosts that do die

how they live on, these whispering voices that don't belong to the dead. the living side step rocky paths with looming shadows, never catching the tint. of similarities nothing to do with that old treasure chest long gone. the pirates they seized at ripe harvest with the rush of sudden surprise attack. how the heart aches when a sliver of stardust could revive this rotting flesh filled with regret. one moment was all it took, before the table got turned with a switch of fate. and then the cat became the mouse, darting furtively while a mouse found playing cat quite absurd. scampering towards a gigantic hole it once knew, no longer could squeeze past it while a jubilant cry was heard. pawing away at nothing, seeing nothing for the darkness was just to bleak. then bleakness found shooting stars falling from the remnants of yesterday. still leaking out fresh water where mermaids told of long lost treasures hidden beneath hope. to turn the tides back when whimsical fate could just look the other way - pirates who found heaven in open waters, master of the seas without the heavy walls of duty. stardust lingers for a second too long, with flesh finding answers not found in prayer praying to a hole gone too small. a harvest turned sour, a harvest with stars falling from the sky - a grand illusion surrounded the man with open eyes: no longer. when a sliver was too much. no regrets indeed, when the cat found itself asking if she mattered when there was no one around. for once she was truly blindsided, lonely with a mass of light displayed. she is center stage. and no one saw her, only the delightful performance of pretense, a comedy, a satire with a cruel twist. with a yowl the gigantic cat shrieked, then shrunk to become once again a mouse running scared. they bumped, collided, crashed into one another mouses from planes across time. bedazzled, disgruntled, awake: with much chittering and scratches, it is now time to hide before. and vultures in the sky, eagles swooping in to catch a damn fine morsel. plucked from a treasure box, yearned memories burn like fire in my hands, becoming the sun. there again. i lived. in those many nudges, voices steering me off to. that good glorious day when the tides suddenly whipped like a frantic damsel in distress. too much. nerve wrecking spells in a turbulent sea of guilt and fortitude. a surprise encounter, a transformation, a shooting star and i found myself only beginning to catch. the tail.