Spectre

How can I inspire hope, when I find, no comfort of my own?
All that follows in my wake is an ever growing trail of ghosts
My failure compounds with their bodies in the ground
Every breath I take is a debt I’ll always owe
What could I do for the world when those in my heart lie feeding the worms?
I remember, I remember the ghosts
So there’s some form to the ether
But even if I have no memory
How many names have I written on stone steps, slabs, sterile beds?
How many are now artifacts?
Have I lead them straight to their deaths?
I use so much, and I give so much less
I give nothing in return for my life of excess
Ten years ago I cheated death and have since kept him at bay every time we’ve
met
Five more and I’ve left nothing of significance
I use so much, and I give so much less
I give nothing in return for my life of excess
Remorse, release, my thoughts ignite often
Yet still we leap to our coffins
What could you learn from me?
I have no answers, to victory where fly my pleas?
I am nothing but a future haunting
Cold sentiment precedes even warmer tendencies
But maybe one day, you’ll find your hope in the ghost that follows me