more than ghosts

we shredded their doubt
and left their thought bruised
we shattered their bone of contention 
and left their crookedness 
in their own selfish lungs
the burning house smudged
the light of the smallest firefly
but we are more than ghosts
our spine is sacred
our walk is perfect
our paths deserved 
hands are seasoned well from prayer
we are not afraid of shadows
or the sound of our own voice