135. Ash

Thoughts gather towards a mystery,
Doing their best to learn from history.

With ancients rising from the grave,
Spirit's appear to haunt my soul.

A run down mirror reflects a hungry ghost
Constantly searching for truer answers.

Words condensate into empty wishes,
Wanting a map towards past riches.

Spirits guide me towards the empty,
All that is here is but a memory.

Your gaze reminisces in front of my eyes.
My vision blurries, wondering if they're lies.

Through yearning, I make this my home.
Hoping looking inward is satisfactory.

Playing the tape on repeat to distortion.
Putting my hands focus on restoration.

With imperfection, things look brand new,
Is what I made what's genuinely true?

Scrambling to reveal the perfect mimic,
Earnestness is lost to romantic airs.

Through burnout alone, I light my fire,
To allow embers to consume you to retire.

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