Once A Living Ghost

Dreaming, I thought

Of what could be, but certainly wasn’t.

Of all that was, and all that’s gone.

 

Dark in the room, that’s all.

Past memories; lost opportunities.

Life in Limbo – seclusion at best.

 

Something in hand, purpose questioning,

Drawing shallow lines of red.

Couldn’t stop that relentless questioning.

In contempt of life;

In arrogance of want and need.

 

No sense of purpose, not even a shred.

Walking thorough one’s life,

Unsure, maybe alive, maybe dead.

A living ghost, paranormal dread.

 

Senseless sitting, scared of true living.

Berating one’s entire feeble being.

Accepting of what I had become.

A world, used to coming wholly undone.

 

So, it seemed like the only way;

The only desire in the darkest of days.

Sitting, and drawing those bright red lines.

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8 thoughts on “Once A Living Ghost

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