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Monday, May 7, 2007

The Ghost Who Walks

Deep in the heart of Bengala
Where the Bandar pygmies reside
Lies a cave fashioned by Gaya
In the likes of a human skull
In its dark mysterious entrails
Lay treasures hidden from avaricious eyes
And a dark keeper to watch over the earth
Masked and clothed in the colour of night
A broad black belt of leather
Hugs his waist with pride
Held by a buckle of solid metal
Death’s head on it styled
At his hips in menacing holsters
Nestle handguns ready to blaze
His most powerful weapons lay silent
On his fingers on either hand
On his right the ring of Death’s head
To mark villains for eternity
On his left the ring of Swastika
To mark folk under the ghost’s protection
And thus he sits on a throne of stone
His faithful hound Devil by his side
As his keen ears stay receptive
To heed when the helpless cry

Far in the distant jungle tom-toms resound alert
The keeper they call ‘Ghost Who Walks’
Stirs with deadly alert
With a swift stride he mounts Hero his white steed
Beware villains and enemy of men
Here comes ‘The Man Who Cannot Die’
Wrong doers and law breakers everywhere
You can run but you cannot hide
For not only is he lord of the virgin jungles
Through concrete jungles too he rides
Disguised in a dark trench coat
He strolls under the name of Walker
Appearing at the appointed hour
From the shadows to take evil by surprise
He is 400 years old the legend says
And will live forever through time
For as long as evil on earth exists
He will never age or stop doing his bit

Through the hearts of bad men fear though he drives
He is not blind or numb to love
For in a warm corner of his vengeful heart
An angel’s image resides
Diana Palmer his destined bride
And queen to rule by his side

Though by many names he walks the earth
He is known by all folk good or bad
For whenever the delicate balance stirs
The Phantom from the shadows will rise.

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