Lurking shadows in the dark.
Under ash they ignite a spark.
A spark so strong, of a memory long
...
Empty roads whisper many stories,
Of latched windows,
Of hurriedly fastened locks,
Over dusty old footprints,
...
Standing close to the window pane,
She cleared openings over vapory glass.
Watching hordes of white bird feathers,
...
Burning your letters by the shallow shores
Where we once sat watching reflections of night
...
In the whispers of this night,
a memory holds me so tight;
Was it you who just passed by,
...
By the withering tree, an unfastened window bolted to timeless wait.
A damsel once sat here in sparkling eyes, open arms for her beloved,
...
Some silences are deafeningly quiet;
Like when I speak, you will not hear
...
I figured out your shadows, in the dark of this night;
Distinct, sharp and individual within a shining light
...
On a cold morning day she dared him to walk the distance.
In frost, barefooted he started his pace, behind him a closing door.
...
Sometimes you wonder why you wrote those letters,
In the dark of that stumble burning midnight flickers,
...