Exiled from soul - petrified
with scars corroding to dust.

Flapping wings with shadows,
urging moments to evaporate.

Bathing hurts in lost moments,
re-dreaming the night.

Forlorn on foreign pastures
grazing remains of the day.

Existence in shadowland
painting colors pale.

The harp bows its strings
to vibrate lost space.

Pacing steps backward, but
the house is no longer a home.