Ghosts in the haze

Inside the smallest mint case,
A midget waits to be giant,
And overcome the traps of the maze.
(Last opportunity to be valiant?)
Mind sustained, eyes glazed,
As your body turns luxuriant...
“Like watching ghosts in the haze,
Living dreams are so inebriant.”

Death is not serene

Death is not serene
‘Tis but a convulsion of sad memories
Foretold in a seismic slumber of the flesh
And acute tremor of fearful soul.
May the tensile but weak support of life
Prolongue these last minutes ‘till eternity
If not for her, for my vanity,
Collapsing age under profanity
Magmafied skin in rotten valley.