We’re everywhere

Lost in the field of vision of the living

Shadowy, held in check by the veil

We peer through the shifting cracks

Long forgotten rips left unsewn

Casualties from a forgotten war

Most small enough for a glimpse

Some wide enough to offer passage

Often just a splinter of light, no more

From every vantage point

We watch as you exist in that light

Jealous, often treacherous thoughts

Building mercilessly with time

Our hunger drives us to brazen ways

Endless hours, endless days, endlessness

No release from the addiction

The cure nonexistent

Mortality opposes us

We’ve seen both sides

Regretful of moments wasted

Actions that condemned the soul

Scornful of too soon a reaping

Our prison is called darkness

Death, is but the beginning

Eternity the sentence












We’ve all heard about the place called purgatory; the place that supposedly exists in-between the two world’s of the dead.  A place where souls are trapped, waiting for an unspecific time to be purified and enter paradise, or to be finally disposed of in the pits of hell.  Those who haven’t died in a state of grace or a state of evil are destined to spend eons waiting and wandering in a nondescript place, surrounded by others of like situations.  Some claim the torturous wait is worse than hell itself as the window to the world of the living is revealed, but just a sliver.  That alone is enough to drive the souls to a heightened and sustained state of borderline insanity.

More Pagan Poetry

Apocalyptic Angels

Ghosts in the Night


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