Ghosts
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Coming to terms with the tricks our minds play, fact or fiction? From what perspective are the dots connected? Patterns of intellect or designs of sub-conscience deception? What proof are lies that we believe are truths? What faith we have in our own arrogance to demand such altered reality.

The history of humanity is scattered with religious and geo-political intervention for hosts of reasons and passions. So quick to choose sides, to lay blame and succor martyrs and myths in the name of… reason? This God of atheism, of mankind, of power for good and evil. Morality in the name of mortality, death is so final… yet we will trade life for death, for the unknown end.

Oh patriot… I live… to grieve your sorrows, your pain is now mine as I salt your hallowed ground with tears. You dared to make a difference with something so precious I can only pretend to why. I hesitate to breathe to change a thing lest I waste what you have done. Oh what have you done?

You lay this gift, this burden upon my conscience, to think and to divine order from the chaos of consequences. I owe you the honesty to say; " I don’t know!" as I take steps past you into the forgotten tomorrow. You live as a ghost for our children, an ultimate admonishment of the sainted selfless.
We take up your memory as arms and march sublime… it is our honor.

The partisan wave flags and symbolize your choice as if you were alive and had all of the answers. As if they knew and could speak with a dead mans voice of vibrant living conceptions. It is too easy for us to ignore the horror of the silence, the solitude, the bounty you reap in grave protest. We the living complicate the simple end and parade the magnificent dead with color, bang and crash. Your silence is so deafening we invoke you.

There is always such confusion with the living, I apologize for our demands upon your sacrifice. Our imaginations are loud to the point of being shrill, we have no right to awaken you, though we often try. Can you hear us cry, wail and moan? We rattle our chains and drift among your Earthy beds considering our daily wants and wonder at the final cost.