The spirits of which I speak
Those images I see
Are not the ghosts of death
But of reality
These vampires of the heart
And werewolves of the mind
Don't rise from out the tomb
Sure death is not unkind
These haunt the Earth by daylight
Feeding upon their fear
They're terrified of living
Limbo is their sphere
The forms they hold are human
Warm blood they drink still lives
Eating out the souls
Of all save negatives
But who can rid us of them?
And how long can we fight?
When spirits can't be killed
Unless they're of the night
© 1981 JVD
Jane Van Doe
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/limbo/
