Ethereal images, imaginings perhaps,

surreal ideals, immaterial and fading,

the dream-like ghosts that haunt those

waking moments, when the mind,

barely aware, and still scared of the night,

stumbles and fumbles for a fragment

of fantasy, with which to cling to in

the grim reality, the banality

of the tempting attempt to avoid

inevitable eventuality.


2 thoughts on “Phantoms

  1. timstavert says:

    I like the many descriptive words you are using in your poetry Kieran. I works very well with your style. Well done Mate!

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