Confronting that white host, or maybe it’s a ghost.
Image via Wikipedia
Image via Wikipedia
One not be a house,
The brain has corridors suppressing
Material place.
Our self, behind our self concealed,
Should startle most;
Assassin, hid in our apartment,
Be horror least.
The prudent carries a revolver,
He bolts the door,
Overlooking a superior spectrum
More near.
The safer through an abbey gallop,
The stone a chase,
Then, moonless, ones own self encounter
In lonesome place.
Far safer of a midnight meeting
External ghost,
Than an interior confronting
That white host.
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