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About This Poem
Pale Wanderings
Pale wanderings
have failed to show
where it is
that I must go.
But wondering
will never hone,
all the words
of lovely ghosts.
They come to me
as a warming voice,
break my lonely
sort of choice.
They in this
have become
my friend,
to be with me
until the end.
Yet, still I wonder
what they are
and whether they
have traveled far.
I cross a path
that’s filled with ice
and cast again
the ivory dice.
What portents this
may not explain.
I search for answers
true in vain.
Someday they say
I’ll come again
And then retract
what they have said.
Loneliness is
something queer
which I alone
forgot to steer.
Today is lost
in doubts that’s clear.
Haunting fills
my mortal fears.
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