Poetry · Writing

Ghost in the Ash

Chances are – I’ve hit the top.

Seen the blistering clouds up close

let it rinse around,

made the moves that melted the rim

treasure the memories it wasn’t very grimm-

Not a hymn but a melody,

a rhyme sippin’ on something without a lime

and a loss of time.


Sittin’ in a dark room

countin’ trophies on the wall

watchin’ them set a blaze. A fire

as the past burns to the ground

time was found and it’s a pile of ash.


It’s time to build a new

shelf from scratch. Without a match

make another catch send a another rap


trophies are just symbol of the past

so the path will be blocked

a ghost in the ash

myself from the past

sweepin’ away the trash

as I write a new path.

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