Ghosts
A desolate wind, scattering
unfulfilled birthday candle wishes
across the land;
back into dark swirls of yesterday.
The memory of what has been,
lays engraved and immutable.
Even silvery potential
tarnishes, in the soul-stuck realm
of regret and dark imaginings.
Those razor-sharp fears
of improbable things,
block the path
to new beginnings.
Solitude brings only
the phantom despair,
and demon misgivings.
Powered by FireStats