B Bush
“Mosque”
Clouds of smoke and steam
drift slowly across my bed,
while the ghosts of the night
frolic around my head.
And behind my eyelids shut and drawn,
I dream of days as a new dawn fades.
The element of surprise is there,
yet still those that are dying don't seem to care.
I think of life that's so unfair.
And I dream of you...
When I could breathe
I'd just enjoy the breath.
No pain of wonder and no
dreams of death.
I'd sit knowing there was
really nothing left.
And I think of you...
And then in the night
came a glimmer of faith.
I'd mistaken it all for one chance
at climbing to grace.
The next moment I realized
this was no start,
for this was the end
my soul and my flesh would soon part.
The blankets of smoke
I knew then were blankets of fog,
drifting from out of the tombs and the stones
searching to add to the collection of bones.
And then I awoke to find myself dead.
What I thought of as ghosts
were really my friends in my head...
Posted March 10, 1997
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