The Holy Ghost and Other Lost Souls

We haunt these cities like half-remembered dreams, drifting vagabonds, broken lost souls. The Holy Ghost has not kept its promise and is no use to us now. Rise up. Though the night the stars, they blind us, but we close our eyes and push on. We smell the smoke and it catches in our throats. This is freedom in the air. These are the days when we lose our shadows, unchained from them, no longer bound to the earth.