In the mystic corners of life
we find shed skins of hope.
With its scales glowing like
the radium idols of decorative gods
we encounter what is called
A divine intervention.
A sign, an omen, a message
ratifying our state and henceforth
demanding gratification in all forms.
Like the shapes of phosphorus
(over the cremation ground)
scaring the villagers to praying
We are led to believing.
in dust, from our bones and minds
in Ghosts and Gods.