Walk alone in this fading light
The lamps are low, a bruised twilight bleeds, Across the pane where the rain still pleads. Each drop a sigh on the dusty glass, Watching the moments slowly pass. A whisper soft on the chilling breeze, Rustling secrets through the skeletal trees. The path unwinds, a ribbon of stone, Leading me deeper, further alone. Each twisted branch, a reaching hand, Grasping for something I can't understand. The air grows thick with a damp perfume, Sealing my fate in this gathering gloom. And I walk alone in this fading light, Where shadows stretch and swallow the white. A phantom limb of a memory's call…
The skinny
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