You see the shadow of the Ghost in front of you, and feel its presence behind your back. But how can you evade the darkness If you don't believe it's there? Or have never felt the chill of recognition of the origin of the apparition. Not until you turn around and stare the ghost in the face And wrap your arms around them Or salt their soul, come what may. Can you walk through the world at peace With the soft shadow always in front of you Or alone, having left them behind.