Dark Skies across The Bay

After pounding the concrete, alone in the dark, pulling the last breath
of air out of my lungs,
I'm ready to sleep…
There's nothing worse than someone treating you like an idiot,
especially if you have the spirit
of The Ghost walking through the caverns of your mind. It's like a
shark smelling blood from miles away,
or a wolf smelling your fear as it circles for it's kill.

So no matter what soft language is used, no matter how fluffy and
humble the approach, the Trojan Horse will always be spotted and burnt
to a crisp with it's arrogant soldiers burned alive inside.
The opinion is still the same, no matter what emperor style clothes you
wish to dress it in.
I remember that opinion with cold, stark, face in the dirt clarity.
So please… pull the other one, it has the Ghost's ectoplasmic spit on
it.
He's shaking your hand with it right now, with a big sharpened fang
grin on his face…
but his eyes speak in the light in a whole different dialect…

Black ops now in full RED alert… keep watching…


Paul Bishop
The Ghost That Walks