Jack

Night after night he wandered through the forest, Lifting stones, knocking trees down, The weight of his sorrow tearing his heart appart, Pushing his shoulders lower and lower to the ground. On the 7th day he fell asleep on a bush of moss. He opened his eyes when the sunrays hit his face, Standing up, he looked far away in the distance, There she stood, a normal human being, running away The sun in her back creating the halo, until she disappeared. He the sun, she the shadow, always he had been the source of the glowing halo Ghosts aren't real, they only exist whenever somebody believe in them.