Buried in Regret
In shadows deep where whispers creep, Where moonlight barely dares to seep, Lies a tale of woe, of hearts unwise, Of haunting pasts and tearful skies.
In the closets of our souls, secrets lie, Silent echoes of a mournful cry, Skeletons dance in closets dark, Each bone a wound, each scar a mark.
A woman stands, her eyes forlorn, A soul by memories deeply torn, She yearns to flee, to break the chains, But guilt and ghosts in shadow reigns.
The past, a specter, cold and grim, With hollow eyes and bony limb, Grips her heart with icy hand, In this forsaken, haunted land.
Dark whispers coil around her feet, A mournful dirge, a sad repeat, "Do not forget," they softly hiss, In every shadowed, stolen kiss.
Her steps are slow, her path unsure, For every corner hides a lure, A memory, a whispered word, From skeletons that never were heard.
Yet in the night, 'neath starless skies, There burns a spark in tearful eyes, A flicker of a hope once bright, To cast away this endless night.
With trembling hands and fragile grace, She faces shadows, face to face, To silence whispers, break the chains, And walk away from past remains.
In Gothic halls where shadows creep, She leaves behind her secrets deep, And though the ghosts may softly weep, She finds her path, her soul to keep.
A collaboration between BlinD Imagery and Bad Bean.
