You were there when I needed you most,
a comforting dark presence to shield the pain.

He called himself Ghost,
whispering, “HG, it’s me—I’m here to set you free.”

Disguised as a Saint,
you promised healing, strength,
but all you did was turn me into a man I barely know.

It took me too long to hear this song,
too close to the edge, where you nearly had me gone.

We stood at a crossroad, time forcing the decision—
Death or life, which one are we choosing?

Just this once, let’s choose life,
even when it’s the hardest choice in sight.

Let’s give roses to the one
formerly known as Ghost