A Fading Light
The horizon is ceaseless.
No clues emerge from the abyss of mist,
As she searches for kin, in this strange, numbing place.
The fog refracts and bends the light,
teasing her ever pining heart,
As shadows weave between the branches, Of her desolate tree.
The lament of displacement,
is the shade which constantly drapes
her In an almost opaque canopy
Of blinding isolation.
She hears faint echoes of languages,
Sees faint flickers of life But still she
swims in purgatory, her mind swallowed
in strife. The current dwells on,
with no signposts of home.