In the quiet of the night,
I hear the whispers faint.
There are created noises,
but there’s the noise of it.
Images of what once was,
but now is something else.
The noises do grow louder,
as my pounding head spills.
Your shadow soul calls,
so I move to your ghost.
In the quiet of the night,
I kiss your corpse lightly.
C & K 