This entry is for Writers Island.
spiraling down
dreaming of images
all in array of colors
all without endings
in this hallow breathe
I stumble into
through the dark corridors
I walk hardly breathing
faster I go
I falter and fall onto the tile floor
crying out your name
only echoes reply
in backward babel
they grow silent as the darkness became light
I walk once again
into the open sunlight
your arms I feel
reaching for me
I cry without joy
to see your face all lost in the shadows
turning around, you walk away
leaving me behind
tears of little comfort
lost in my hands
I see your back fading away into the dark
I woke to a reverie of old memories
of forgotten words
your words
so strong in my head
thudding away
I sleep once again
hoping in dreams
to see your face once more
haunting me
Haunted
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This is my favorite part of this poem:
only echoes reply
in backward babel
I love this. You are right, it seems we both wrote of the same type of haunting, yet managed to do it so differently.
This is very powerful in its emotion!
I loved this poem. The strange thing is I had a simular dream about a year after my father died.
Very evocative...
Wonderful!
this is sticking with me...
I sleep once again
hoping in dreams
to see your face once more
haunting me
Happy Hauntings...
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“The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.”
Marcus Aurelius (Roman emperor, best known for his Meditations on Stoic philosophy, AD 121-180)