And he's haunting her again,

Little things like whispering of the wind.

Echos, shadows, in the darkest of night,

Memories, tears,dancing flames in the firelight.

It burns high,this flaming torch

And deep inside, deep, deep remorse.

Why? why did things have to fall apart?

And she felt another piece rip from her heart.

He's really gone, and there will be no return

She knows this and her soul continues to burn.

Anger, rage,feeling so helpless inside,

And all she wants is to find a place to hide.

Somewhere far away, maybe in the land of dreams,

Somewhere that her mind, can explore, run free.

No pain, no heartache, no ghosts in the night,

No more memories,of the night he died.

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Afzal Shauq's picture

ts a true poem..written in a poetic short story type..lovely enough