Ghost Stranger

The horned creature draws near
His eyes sockets are filled with dust.
Something dashes through through the trees, laughing
The visitor has come.

The painted female and male are holding hands.
The thunderbird dances.
The images are animating.
The pinions grow exceptionally thick.
The dead are visible from other dimensions.
The crickets chant.

Fearless whispers draw near.
Harrowing creatures wallow close.
I hear the creek sifting the ancient rocks.
The horned one is looking at me.
Dust filled eye sockets.

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