A Wraith's Tale

A Wraith's Tale

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Battered and Forgotten,

The Wispy Form Takes a Step,

The Trail of His Tears,

Shadow His Once Strong Traipse,

Its a Familiar Shodden Path,

That bares Its way Before Him,

How He wound up here again,

Is a Question Just beyond Him,

His Fingers Trace the Scars,

Over where His heart may have Been,

Its last Crumbles Long Borne,

On the Back of a Cold Southern Wind,

He Dared to Dream Before,

Maybe Twice or Thrice In Faith,

Splitting These Scars in hope,

To Find the Heart of a Wraith,

But Alas, There was None,

Not All Souls were Destined to Dream,

Some are Just the Dust,

That Let Others Sleep Serene,

Tho Some Stories end Warm, 

There are Tales that Turn Skins Cold,

This is One Such  Tragedy

Of a Youth given a Life Too Old...

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Sometimes I cannot speak my thoughts coherently, But I am thankful that I have this place, where I can leave these memories. This poem speaks for itself, and it speaks for me...