THE CITY OF GHOSTS

Sunrays bathing the life ashamed-
Faces that are masks.
A smile that's plastic.
A bullet that fakes a death.

Brightened with golden sunflame-
Souls that rest in darkness
That are ghosts,or maybe scare-crows,
Making faces at the shattered mirror;
Their laughter transcends from hidden fears,
And overflows the limits of audibility
To reach the ears of your god,
Who laughs at you throughout the cursed day.

And the dusk is sultry-
Those souls tired by the day
Morph to blasphemistic nightmares.
Bats,owls and dogs.
And fly by their own fearful hearts.
As the city sleeps
In the grave of bony have-nots.