Ghost of Broken Bridges

Broken fingers didn’t deter the figure
Nor a roller-coaster spine
Even a pale moon filled with
Flaming bones
Didn’t discourage the spirit

In fact, the atmosphere was perfect
Though evanescent
The bridges hung as they should
Nicely framing the end of the world
And their shadows were perfect
Recalcitrant spawn giving life to silence

The ghost tried to get close to the shadows
But they moved all too suddenly
Replaced by the pink rays of a fading sun
So it sought out the bridges themselves
Only for them to give way to complete darkness

 

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