a dizzy blur surfaces
you spin in circles exhausting
all spiritual avenues towards coping
as a haunt from the past taunts and
shakes the wet, cool grass beneath your feet
teetering your confidence
you see that ghost, it longs to tether your
heart and grip your silhouette
daring you back to old stomping grounds
as you shudder and shake
he laughs at you, chides
handing you dangerous tools
that may only cause further torture
to your ever searching soul
a spirit dying in vain, hiding in shame
you resist the offering,
though your resistance is weak
you long for a halo of love to
swim above your aching head
and bring sense to the madness
from which there appears
to be no escape
