Blimey, she said, sending words of shiver through my spine,
This is how ghosts work, and witches,
And ghosts of past like especially saddened beings
Scrolling their feisty, yet long and dry hands along curtains of time.
Mornings and evenings are never the same again with these beings following through every step
While nights and clouds would now perish along high corridors of wonder
Until deserts got dry and suns got burning and ashes got spilled along the way
Until Tomorrow Land.
