GHOST


Meekly I rose on thorny field
my petals shattered and few
and my feet rhythm with the tide
and my bread soaked in life's dew.
Walking in giant shadows
chasing ghostly ghost
with a hope that sparrow
flying at her very best.
Pedal to the metal
I call it rosy gold
for the joy I stand after my fall'
The Holy Ghost is my stronghold.
I mold my tears into sapphire'
and hung it on the sky to form stars
so it lit will beam on my dreams
A very vista film.

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GHOST