Becoming a Ghost

The day opens up with sunlight begging to come through the window, but I am too weak to hear pleads; with eyes like magnets needing to connect I cannot see what its coming in my window.

I moved a little, so I thought, did not feel it at all with time wasting away in my bed and in the hours that came. I should have been finding my own man made god. But I cannot move and this feeling of sinking is giving me a new strength. The fight is near the end and I am near and dear to the fight. So when everything goes wrong and everything is bleeding out its passion, where to turn and how fast should I run.