They say ghosts aren’t real.
It’s not them wandering around on the surface of earth.
Ghosts are monsters living within us.
Ghosts are preditors feeding on innocense.
Ghosts are us, facading to be something we are not.
The ghosts are the past we left behind, as we hold on to them, they crumble up to pull us back into the darkness.
They clutch us in the strength of their claws.
While we live, we forget what is real and what is unreal. We give in to our inner ghosts, inner darkness and then hope for someone to rescue us.
Can we be saved from this unreal image that clutch us to our own nightmares?