New Year Old Wishes

she sits alone in her moonlit room outcast, as if from society a shadow mimics her moves twigs beneath the breeze shake like fingers grasping at nothingness she hears footsteps falling soft yet quick like strokes on a keyboard pressing on as if echoes in her head resurrect old wishes of a hidden muse that once whispered louder than the bellows of january's cold wind yet silence falls like shadows beneath the crimson rise of dawn