In shadows dark, where souls contend,
Uncertain whispers, his spirit bends.
A ghostly figure, lost in plight,
He craves solace in the depths of night.
A Bible grasped, his spectral hands trace,
The chapter marked time’s sacred embrace.
He yearns for answers, salvation near,
His ghostly heart quakes with fear.
Words of wisdom, wisdom untold,
An entry profound, a tale of old.
Infinite questions, doubts anew,
This phantom seeks truths, both real and true.
The priest’s intention, a divine instruction,
For the ghostly visitor’s soul’s reconstruction.
Yet uncertainties linger, haunt his mind,
Elusive clarity, he struggles to find.
With each page turned, a dance of despair,
Shadows of doubt cloud the ghostly air.
He yearns for revelations, a guiding light,
To pierce the veil, unveil his endless night.
Is faith a balm or just a shroud?
The ghost contends, his essence bowed.
The Bible’s wisdom, both profound and vast,
Can it heal his spirit and mend his broken past?
In the flickering candle’s elusive glow,
The ghost, uncertain, continues to bestow,
His presence upon the sacred prayer,
Hoping enlightenment may find him there.
Oh, Uncertain, thy supernatural quest,
To find solace, where souls find rest.
In the midst of doubt and shadows deep,
May faith’s embrace grant thy weary spirit sleep.
Steve Halstead.
The Yorkshire Poet & Friends 