New Poem: True Friends

Feeling morose and unapologetic for it. Sometimes these moods take me. Sometimes there is no reason. Sometimes there is. I just want to feel my hurt and cast it out. This works, a little.

True Friends

Wraiths haunt this place
taunting
hunting
hating
hurting
whenever they can
if they ever care to

They often do not

care that is

They cannot be bothered
they float in and out
away and down
locking themselves tight
within their own minds

Ours is a castle
of shadows
built on lonely moors
drowning in uncertainty

Loneliness is food for the wraiths
and we are all of us
a buffet on which they may gorge
helping them wither away
to the nothing they prefer

We could perform an exorcism
cast the misty demons from our home
but then who would we have
to keep us company
as we cry ourselves to sleep

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