You wake to a cold morning light, dull, frigid;
A pallor has crept around your visage.
The Ghost comes again, the world-spirit
Crashing down on you, I can still hear it
Draining, feeding, pulling from you your light.
Where has it gone? You always were so bright.
This world, this Ghost, has ever been a part
Of all our many lives, and from the start
It has been tearing us to shreds, but now
It is time to rise up, to fight the Ghost
And prove that we can survive and thrive, how
Powerful we can be, and as a host
Of humans, we must find the goodness, bow
To the moments that will never be lost.