The Spectre and the Script

Two people once lived here

Together they lived and yet

One ghost alone haunts the home 

Putting on pale performances each day

Mere echoes that imitate what once had been

A home alive with purpose, laughter, shared meaning

Former sources of connection that turned into gravestones 

Tragically no amount of phantom reflection will restore life

Life is full of options, death has none, but undeath has exactly one

When nothing remains but memories, the only choice is to follow the script

Reviews

[RomaJ]

Such a haunting image of a ghost bound to routine. I can really feel the emptiness and longing in these lines.