Among the ghosts I walk, hidden in plain sight, with whispers of the past.
He wrongly thought he was saving her; like the moon, she was already free.
The ocean returns
and kisses the shore despite
being turned away
Waiting for the moon
to show her beauty once more
Time slows to a halt
The wood’s mud filled paths
Tell tales of thousands of walks
Too many to count
She found freedom under the moonlight.
Sometimes even the
brightest moon fails to lighten
the darkest of hearts