It’s easy to ignore what lays beyond,
in the veil between the light and the dark.
I am not afraid of what may lurk.
I am afraid of what will be left,
as nothing is as simple as being erased.
There’ll be pieces left to be put together.
A puzzle forever unfinished, never meant-
to be finished, forever a mystery to resent.
Answers will come, but nothing will stay-
in place as the years pass. Like a bay,
what lays beyond will engulf the puzzle,
and all you’re left with is a mystery to nuzzle.
Comments
This poem was written to be interpreted in any way, though, to me when speaking of what’ll be left I interpret it as something Gothic like ghosts & the paranormal!
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