POEM: The Ghost in the Rain/The Man in the Mist

A poem from long, long ago that has taken many forms, been picked apart, added to, taken from, and was also the result of two separate poems of similar nature that were written many years apart. In my view, it’s not been one of my best efforts, although I do think I was on to something with it. But, I see where it pertains to my state of mind back then and even, partially, now. I tried to polish up this dirty doorknob as much as I could. It lacks, definitely, and is a bit vague and scattered. But, the wording has merit. So, I figure why not share it.

**Those last two lines rhymed!

The man sat still in the rain that was falling

When, through the wind, a faint voice calling

Appeared as an image alone in the mist

There was darkness on its face and light in its fist

Holding reflections for his soul to see.

 

Behind him there were low shadows crawling

Soft eyes of babies and women were bawling

The remains of the people written on the list

Some that were killed and some that were kissed

Depending on where they happened to be.

 

Passing through him, the world he once knew

No rain rolling through a dark sky of blue

No mist in the wind, on the shore or the tide

Blowing footsteps away where memories died

Erased by slow and lonesome years.

 

The ghost, now wrapped, in the winds that blew

Saw the man that time had come to undo

And the man was in fear and wanted to hide

And be sheltered by the wall that rose when he cried

But the ghost could see right through the tears.

 

The ghost in the rain brought the man back

To a time when his beating heart had turned black

Serpentine fingers reached out for his head

To remind the faint man of the life that was dead

Revealing to him all that was lost.

 

The man had already been dragged down the tracks

Slipped in the holes and stepped on the cracks

No mercy from the claws that picked through his mind

They were digging through darkness for something to find

Seeing the abyss this man had crossed.

 

The man knew the truth, there was no way to win

For a sinner in a battle with the master of sin

In silence, he faded, like the rain washed away

His spirit once broken and long led astray

Leaving his body as a vacated shell.

 

Standing triumphant, the ghost from the haze

Twisted the man through his lamentable maze

Lost in the void, trapped in the pit

The man’s transgressions he tried to forget

Came back to him in the form of this Hell.

 

Crimes claimed righteous are not justified

In the rain, the man had been taken and tried

Now convicted and sentenced to pain

Redemption, the name of the ghost in the rain

Like the man, we all must pay what we owe.

 

His heart was devoured by the scourge of the breeze

Blown from perdition to purge his disease

No longer beating, nothing remained

But the shreds of his soul that had become stained

Consequence is a truth we all must know.

 

We all become names to the ghost in the rain

Our walls are asylums, we are all insane

Down darkest hallways in the shadiest places

We don’t forget names, we don’t forget faces

We just deny what we cannot hide.

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