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A Ghost Writes

in the stillness of the night
where shadows weave their tales
an envelope drifts weightless through silence
ancient parchment frayed
by the breath of time

it bears no return address
only the faint aroma
of forgotten dreams and echoes
a whisper carried
on the back of the wind

i unfold the letter
my fingers trembling
as ink flows like liquid night
each word a spectral sigh
a whisper traced in sorrow
from a world unseen

dear keeper of solitude it begins
do you feel the weight of my presence
the dim light flickering
at the edge of your vision
i am the shadow that dances
between the creases of your memory

the words curl and twist on the page
murmuring stories of lost hopes
of laughter that once filled
the corners of a room now empty
i hear the echoes soft as mist
of voices long stilled

tell me, do you remember
the hush of autumn’s breath
the promise of summer’s dawn
moments like stars
some fading, some bright
they linger, reaching
for hands that can no longer grasp

i pause, lost in the tapestry of thoughts
noticing how the ink bleeds
smudging the line between past and present
where time forgets to tread

do not weep for me, it pleads
i linger not in sorrow
but in the beauty of the ephemeral
life is a dance of shadows
and i am but a note
a fleeting whisper in your landscape

outside, the wind stirs
carrying the weight of its message
into the emptiness
i draw a breath
feeling the chill of its presence
etched against my skin

and in that moment, i understand
we are all scribes of stories
haunted by echoes of memories
our souls are ink
stitching the living to the lost
holding hands across the divide
with trembling fingers

i seal the letter again
each word a shimmering thread
tying me to the unseen
reminding me that even in absence
there is beauty, even in silence
a voice that lingers
a ghost that writes

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 5/18/2025 7:10:00 PM
Absolutely beautiful, ethereal- there is writing and always will be writing. If you're not careful, existentialism can lead to madness. But the emotion pours from your words- it will stay.
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Alesia Leach
Date: 5/23/2025 4:30:00 PM
Paige, you always catch the light through the veil--thank you. “There is writing and always will be writing” might be the truest spell I’ve ever read. I think that’s what this poem hoped to be: an echo that keeps echoing. I’m so grateful it found a place in you.

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry