Ramblings

These are the ramblings of a man in solitude,
in search of a past that didn’t exist.
The emanations of a ghost
in search of a soul that may be lost.
Who are you? Yo soy fantasma, he says
before being apprehended to disappear forever.

When I am alone, I like the dark, I like the night.
It gives a comfort, a protection, a cover
against all those who otherwise might come out
and live while your ability to live is disabled.
Or at least, that’s what you think
or want to think.

This is not despair, not even close.
This is how I become alive,
not a momentary life from a high,
but the application of one’s mind and intellect
that builds upon itself, to create again.
From death, life.

This is not poetry, not even close.
Just the ramblings of a man in solitiude.