Strangers in the night

by : Bacardi Gold

lone wide bed sleeping in a rectangular room
ages of summers crossed its wicked door’s perfume
glories unaccounted to the mind revisited
awakened from the slumber it once was buried
nights’ drifters floated with the candle-whipped wind
invisible yet could be felt more than it was imagined
melodious smoke loitered along the tunes of ravaged graves
un-ordained priests said masses for the creeping slaves
churches’ bells screamed as the night grew old
entered at every square unmindful of the eerie cold
shook every hand it meets though not seen
never answered when asked where have you been
faces of the living in frightened moments of pale white

hugging the ghostly love as Strangers in the Night…