Poem -

Dance with the ghosts

Dance with the ghosts

Dressed in my ghoulish gown
I tread on its train of shadows
and listen to the dirge of the new moon.

I can smell scents from the past
brought to me by the west wind
or my smoky whisky is drenching my soul.

In the dim room of my haunted mind
I quiver like a bony drum.

Gaunt and eerie I
dance with the ghosts.

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