My OperaAnother Man turned in to a Ghost
Monday, November 3, 2008 12:04:05 AM
A man walks through a hall, he walks while he whispers in his mind. Why today? This is like another small old routine that sometimes his brain plays tricks on him. Same old bitching made by a person who does not understand; what it feels like to be a ghost. A ghost, this man is mortal, a mortal who does not understand, where does he belongs. Sometimes he just wants people to see him, but people see right through him. Making him feel, strange, alienated, lost. This man swears that he is alive; however, people walks through him and he still can't understand why. He lingers alone at night watching through people's window wondering; how does it feels to feel to be alive? How does it feel to be loved? How does it feel to be warm? He wonders if his pain will ever go away. This man lives in a cycle, inside of a cage made by solitude and darkness. This man is a star been surrounded by other constellations; that shines brighter and brighter. Making him feel unimportant. By scientist that looks out at our cosmos searching for an answer. He is another grain of sand in a beach, which no mortal soul could ever see or admire of its texture. No one can see this ghost; no one could ever understand how it feels to be forgotten by the masses. Forgotten by his friends, he walks in our plain asking how to break this evil curse that made him a cold, heartless, and forgotten soul walking around the living, which no souls eyes can see his spirit that lingers by the lake of sorrow.
