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. Great job at setting the atmosphere. I don’t know, when reading the poem I got this spring morning feeling where the wind is blowing, sending chills throughout your body (sorry if that doesn’t make sense)… Anyway great poem!

    Liked by 3 people

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