Once I was a man like you <br /> strong in the heart and mind <br /> Now my spectre drifts the sands of Egypt these sixteen <br /> centuries <br /> across the tombs of Pharaohs <br /> from Alexandria and the sea into the desert mountains <br /> where only insects live and hermits come to die <br /> <br /> No longer do I feel the burning Sun of Purgatory on <br /> my bare back <br /> no longer does the word of God wet my dry lips <br /> no more do I hope for resurrection <br /> I only pray for eternal sleep to end my torment <br /> <br /> My shade counts the sands of time <br /> moving as parches water <br /> through its fleshless fingers <br /> the carrion have abandoned my bleached bones <br /> a scorpion has nested in my eye socket <br /> no answer echoes in my skull to the <br /> frozen scream of my broken jaw <br /> <br /> I am alone <br /> the only ghost in a godless land <br /> I pass through a stone crucifix and Sun Gods <br /> on ancient plaster <br /> neither have redeemed my soul <br /> so I will walk the Breath of Egypt <br /> until the end of the world<br /><br />Steve Downes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ghost-of-saint-anthony-first-published-the-pagan-field-1996/
