1 minute read
home is where
home is where
in the silence of the halls , echoes the ghosts of dreams. long dead, abandoned and crushed.
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Home is where hope goes to die.
the echoes mock me; mold me; haunt me; hug me; hold me; tempt me with the peace of closed eyes.
repelled by the light of aspirations set aflame; i feel the ashes of my desires guide me (deeper) into the darkness; away from the illusion of warmth.
in the silence of the halls, the darkness speaks -
“Hopes hurt; hundreds have hoarded their dreams, pretending to preserve them from me.”
“darkness is a delusion,” i tell myself.
“darkness dissuades you from delusions” it tells me.
