Please Excuse My Passing – W. Thurston

Ghost-thaivisa

Blood cast on the wall.

I am dead, and yet I stand.

Here watching.

Pain is fading, yet this one is wading.

Holding on, for here I am still.

Watching you.

Holding my hand, screaming.

This world is fleeting; though here we are.

Waiting.

“Please,” is all you’re saying.

 

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