Forgotten.

Stains of sorrow from ages past
capture frost within the haze.
 A spirit scarred, of treasures stripped,
It yearns to find the way.

Haunted by a stillness cruel,
this wanderer amongst the trees.
Solemn, aching, silently–
she fades into the breeze.

54 thoughts on “Forgotten.

Add yours

  1. There are many out in our world who live such spectral lives…, born with nothing, passing through life with nothing, and leaving this world without a trace. Sad. A beautifully written poem though, Phoebe. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Kinda Keatsian … can’t resist quoting the end of ‘La Belle Dame’, sorry …

    She took me to her Elfin grot,
           And there she wept and sighed full sore,
    And there I shut her wild wild eyes
           With kisses four.

    And there she lullèd me asleep,
           And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
    The latest dream I ever dreamt
           On the cold hill side.

    I saw pale kings and princes too,
           Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
    They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
           Thee hath in thrall!’

    I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
           With horrid warning gapèd wide,
    And I awoke and found me here,
           On the cold hill’s side.

    And this is why I sojourn here,
           Alone and palely loitering,
    Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
           And no birds sing.

    Liked by 1 person

Your turn to share...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: