dark mourning of the soul
for times lost
she never had
reaching out
scrambling through the shadows
wrapping them around her
like an old familiar
shying from the light
and its hateful glare
exposing truths
she already knows
her remorse
for things ungained
pockets emptied
and embers long since doused
remains her constant
her lover
her friend
and the sole consistency
of her mourning
© 2009, Micael Chadwick
