Baronhawk's Nest

I can see it...
a mist of hopes long dead
a fog of lost emotions
as it clouds upon horizons
and drowns all sense and notions.

I see it still
I see it everywhere
these ghost that haunts me
memories that just won't die

I can feel it...
a touch colder than ice
that creeps slowly within
an all encompassing numbness
coursing through my veins.

I know it well
this cold and empty feeling
for it lives nearby
and always keep my company.

I can hear it...
a siren's woeful cry
a banshee's song of sorrow
as it stills the beating heart
and silence all its echoes.

Its calls to me
this soulful lullaby
it sings to me
for all that has left me by.

There is a great disparity between now
and the puerile views of an innocent's eyes
the trappings and surfeit that reality endows
the gregariously common countenance of lies.

Veiled minds and obscured sights
concealed from the embrace of truth's visage
what is, what was and whats perhaps
shuttered behind tedium and regimented wiles.

Where art the hand, the guidance and the light
amidst the darkness, the gloom and the flood
for I stand alone at the edge of twilight
as I seek to find the meaning of the tides.