I Drift, A Ghostly Trace, Wading Poem by Mohammad Younus

I drift, a ghostly trace, wading
through clotted earth—
Mud coils around my knees,
each step sinking deeper.
Still, I press on,
the past whispering softly behind.

Wolves weave the wind with howls,
their voices tangled in mine,
echoing the wreckage I have known.
Drowned sailors drift in dark currents,
their faces smudged with longing—
but they dissolve, unraveling,
as I rise from the mire,

leaving the silt of memory behind,
the weight of illusion falling away,
like shadows lifting clean from bone.

Through thinning mist—
light threads the air—
a golden breath upon my skin.
I walk unburdened, crowned by silence,
each step ringing true beneath the sun.
No longer a ghost—
I stand whole in the open sky.

MyKoul