Haunted

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

5 Post A comment:

writerwoman said...

This is my favorite part of this poem:
only echoes reply
in backward babel

Karina said...

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!

Marja said...

I loved this poem. The strange thing is I had a simular dream about a year after my father died.

gautami tripathy said...

Very evocative...

Crooked Eyebrow said...

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)