The Ghost In The Machine

By the waver of lamps so these keys tire,
The walls age 'nother day;
Dim the screen deems my wake's expired -
Mid numbness o' neuron's decay.

In peaceful pride I serve my dreams;
My limbs for long comatose,
Discern pain that the plushness redeems;
Those that toil thus duly doze.

Yet guises swarm like organs unmanned,
Heed the captive foliage that spy!
And the litany of lunacy down no-man's-land,
Wakes the ghastly dark inside...

O' limbs these tire, my dreams transpire!
"What'd urge such defiant wake?"
Asked I the shadows - starless, sapphire;
And the vagrant ghost thus spake.

Reviews

[J.P.]

"My limbs for long comatose,"
That I have felt and longed for. Any working person has.

"And the litany of lunacy down no-man's-land,
Wakes the ghastly dark inside..."
I've never served or been in war, but I have been watching this YouTube channel called Voices of History and I can envision this completely, though I can't understand the impact of it. Such solid writing.
- J.P.

[Swagato Saha]

Thank you.

[Brad Dehler]

Captivating poem! Very good. I enjoyed the rhyme and meter, not my style of writing typically but you have mastered it. Bravo. Nice work. Yes, the mind exists separate from the body... but in your poem, you take it further with ghostly ethereality. I look forward to reading more of your work. I hope you keep on