The ghost’s silver forms were a mat of scars, cut on cut on cut. Their skin must have been hyde thick in life. All that pain with a hundred fold the effort to heal than to slice. With grace, heads raised, they would glide to us each night and sing. Each song was an ocean of tears transcending into sound. At first it all seemed so pointless, scarred they came and scarred they left. But then, months into their visitations we saw it, after each song a scar would vanish. One day they will sing their last; one day they will be free.
In came a ghost, bonny and spry, a conjuring of mischief that had somehow abandoned its desire to scare.
I have played host these long years to ghosts in my own machine, the screaming fears of abandonments passed, of pains inflicted by those lost to their own pains. Now that I am protector I cannot afford these ghosts who eat so much and provide no forward path nor motivation. To them and their chains I bid farewell, this house is clean.
The ghost realm is as real as this one. Reality is only real when you're in it. They are only spectral here, there they are solid. To them you are the voices from beyond, whom they either serve with love or seek to hurt. We hope you join the heroes in your living years so that you can be with the angels in the hereafter.
You will one day be a ghost, choose through your actions and your heart if you are to become either angel or demon, either for creation or destruction. The architect will see your choice as your last breath is taken.
The nature of the ghost and its reason for staying stem from the choices made in the living years, upon the health, or deterioration, of the soul at the time they were supposed to pass on.
The ghost had things to do before passing on, and her need to put right what she could was so great that the creator had given her a new body. Thus she was alive and dead, perhaps what some would call an angel.
The ghost had been unaccustomed to love in the living years and so in death had no way of seeing heaven's gate.
All the ghost ever wanted was someone to show how to trust the light that called, that said it was home.
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