Ghosts

I hear drums pounding
and beating and calling.
I sprint in the night
while the sky is falling.

The shadows beside me
all whisper and hiss
as dreams come screaming
from the rolling mist.

My lost thoughts fly with me
in the writhing dark;
they're flashing and flaring
with every last spark

of life I once gave them,
the last light in their hearts,
as around us, the world
is coming apart.

There's no more hiding,
but I don't dare to die
at the hands of my demons.
So 'til the end, I'll fly.

The drums, ever beating,
are thunder in my ears
as I flee from the ghosts
of my quickening fears.