…of sorrow

Shadowed thoughts, circle slowly in my dreams
strangely at odds with the lingering scent of lavender and roses
a soft perfumed haunting, a fragrant possession
I seek the cobwebbed corners and the dark places
where the ghost of you can’t find me
but still….
I hear your whispers
and still….
these memories stalk me
your echoes are endlessly circling me
and swimming in the marrow of my bones
I am drifting further into the realms of darkness
where the souls of the lost are shifting
restless in the shadows
I am searching for light in this desolate place
where the whispers are soft
as the slow beating wings of floating butterflies
barely audible, yet resonating in every nearby heart
a symphony of sorrow, that only the lost can hear
the sad hymns of the broken
and in my loss and my misery, you are ever out of reach
as invisible as a raven, against an ebony sky
© Ann Bagnall