There are ghosts in every hallway 
In every room, behind every door 
Peering through every window intho the past 
Holding onto us in the bitterness of the mire 
Leaving a trace of themselves in the spaces in which they hide 
...but there are no ghosts here... 
There are gods in the wake of every flame 
The fire that betroths the coldness of the void 
In every wind, every tempest, and every snowfall 
In every silence 
Inside every root that reaches deep into the soul of the Earth 
...but there are no ghosts here... 
Shadows paint the dusk 
Ghosts rise from the flames 
To set alight in the fields 
In robes of smoke and spirit aligned