In the quiet corners of my mind I find Echoes of a past I cannot bind, Chasing shadows I can never quite erase, Each a memory I must face.

I tread these halls of thought alone, A place where light has rarely shone. Whisper to me, winds of the twilight, Guide me through the folds of night.

Loneliness, a silent plea, Yearning for sweet company. Help me stand, though weary and slight, To greet the morning’s gentle light.

Through the night, a solemn flight, Darkness pierced by no starlight. Yet, hold my hand, oh fleeting sight, Till dawn’s hues spill, bold and bright.

April 19, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop