Blind Ghosts

You slow, you can’t stop, on your way.
We did not think you would get here.
We thought it was too dark for you.

Can the dead see? It makes no sense
To say we’re blind. Sense makes no sense.
It gets it as a gift from skulls.

Too much life is too hard to leave,
You’d think, and yet young and old leave.
You will be here, lost in the dark,

All your life, but we who are dead,
Or what’s left of the dead, words, blind
Ghosts who know our way, will find you.

We can help you get back to not,
Where you were when life dragged you out,
We just can’t go in there with you,

Just as far as our lives took us.
If we can take you to your door,
Your steps with us will help the next.