𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊­𝒔𝒆𝒊

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In the glass, echoes of yesterdays dance,
Fractured dreams drift in a fog of unspoken yearning.
A blade of thought—cold as winter's breath—
Heartbeat tolls like a bell in the abyss.

The world spins, heartless as a midnight star.
Hands reach for solace, but grasp only whispers.
Fingers trace the edges of fading light,
While the void murmurs soft promises of stillness.

Darkness wraps me—an inviting shroud,
The final curtain drawn on sorrow's stage.
Life's palette bleeds to muted ash;
I sink, weightless, in the sea of silence.

The sun, a weary traveller, falters in despair.
Words unspoken hover like breath in cold air.
Even the sky forgets how to hold colour—
And yet—somewhere, a flicker remains.

A hush—
not of ending,
but pause.

A warmth, timid,
beneath the ruin's dust,
like something waiting,
still learning to trust.

Burdened spirits still carry the ache,
But in that ache,
a pulse—
still beating,
still becoming whole.

- In the Mirror, My Ghost Lingers


                                                                    ___________________________
                                                                          _____________________
                                                                                _____________

After a year of stepping back into the shadows, I am here again—words in hand, heart on the page. This poem closes this chapter, holding the weight of everything I have been through—the silence, the storms, the slow unravelling and stitching of my soul. In the Mirror, My Ghost Lingers is the quiet breath before the next step, a flicker of hope after a long, restless night. Thanks for being here, listening to the echoes, and walking this path with me again.

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