Dark thoughts
In the black of the night, dark of the thoughts in our mind, takes a stroll. confident and bold, the reaper with its scythe, his hoods down is not the only ghost riding on his horse and taming the night. reclined and half asleep yet eyes open wide. in the silence of the night we scream loudly inside. a quarter of our brain in search of a sanctum. wanders about least realising it has already lost in the vortex of its own thought. help me,help me, help me please it keeps shouting and tossing all throught the night, yet we keep breathing eyes rolling slowly over to see our own ghost hover.