All Poetry

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 replies »

  1. That is beautiful, Phoebe. So I was going to say atmospheric but I’m not sure if that makes sense. It’s late and my brain is a bit fried.
    xx Rowena

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