Ghosts

Will there still be light when we are finished
With this world, taken the future from today?
Or will darkness fall like a blanket of sleep
As sterility grips every water, fire envelopes
Every forest, and our desert of imagination
Crawls across the world like armies of ants?
Yes, there will be light, there will be lovers
In the dry of riverbeds; one will take a dream
Of flowers and another bathe in starlight,
Cool as the ghosts that take us in embrace.

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