Thorns

I reached out stretched farther than ever before I'm not sure what I expected why I thought it might end differently this time Audentis fortuna iuvat Fortune favors the bold My fingers pass through shadowy specters grasping at ghosts phantoms of fantasies mocking me maliciously leaving me to languish alone lost in a mist of nothingness that swirls like smoke and ashes cremated creations of my own mind Hope revealed to be but a vine covered in thousands of thorns in which I am entangled slicing and piercing my soul in its most sensitive places as the clouds above burst soaking me in salt water Yet I will dare to dream again tomorrow that someday my hand will take hold of something solid Someone in that mist will grip mine the stinging silence broken by a simple 'hello'