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.