ElzuWolfe - Your Metempsychosis

Yes, I’ll become earth from these ashes black.
“Onwards, spirit!” Sails spread against the Styx.
Under, ghosts float. They linger, deep and limp;
relaxed in the beyond, sinking as stones.

My friend you will never avoid this trap;
each man that will impugn immortal souls,
turns ash from flesh, remaining dead and dumb.
Each man that will impugn immortal souls,
made life their quaint abode. And here you are.
Part ghost and taciturn. You are revived.
Silent in night, death held you hard and near.
Yes, I’ll become earth from these ashes black.
Come souls in your fandango flight. I’m dead;
haunting. I could become again, I say,
“onwards, spirit!” Sails spread against the Styx,
silent in night. Death held you hard and near,
I heard you haunt. Earth from these ashes black!
Silent in night; death held you hard and near.

The End

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