Ghosts

I have taught my heart to weep
Beside the grave of those long dead
I have learned to prize the sleep
Of soldiers with a hero’s bed.

Tonight I drink a bitter draught
Of sour pain and loneliness
And drink to love, to light and laughter
Now drowned in seas of  nothingness.

But ere I reach for my last drink
To bless their rest with heaven’s Lord,
My cup glides off  across the board.
It’s natural physics, so I think,

What phantom drinks this night with me?

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