Hauntings in the tiny hours,
When you wake in the morning darkness
Surrounded by the sparks and sputters of the world,
But yet quite alone in its starkness.
Ghosts of things you wished you had said
To visages and voices of the past
Disappearing on a passing ship,
In a vast
Ocean. And you watch its light,
Pointed in a new direction,
Sink slowly below the dark curve
Of the silhouetted horizon,
Leaving only you and your introspection
Turn to look at what seeks you.
That which follows those who flee
In chase of the chimera of destiny
Which unfolds unbeknownst,
Beneath our feet
Where night shadow lovers struggle to see
That our path itself is the palpable longing
For a splendid love, replete.