Ghosts

There is a ghost in everything I see;
By this I got by faith - bears my name and goes;
He has emptied his blank eyes into my fires and my waters;

He wakes in weaving glass and dreams;
Through one wall and silence eight;
With a mad lunatic face – white as God;

Beside my wild glances through the walls;
Yet another and another wail into my skin uninvited;
He haunts me and burdens me as never before;

The silent hand behind the curtains;
He breathes for a moment ever so watchful – in the moment of mystery;
Throughout the night I feel untouchable.