On brightest days I’m haunted by your ghost,
who holds my heart in her grip like a vice;
and when I think that I’ve found a cleared coast,
she morphs the soothing waters into ice.
The fires of the sun have flickered out.
I look for simple solace in my bed.
My slumber’s shattered by a mighty shout;
the love songs of love lost can wake the dead.
How can I eat if you are all I taste?
How can I pray if my soul’s split in two?
Alone the air I breathe is merely waste,
why bother moving on if it’s from you?
Your ghost examines my translucent face,
You left a man, but I now take his place.