A Letter To The Dead

Burning bridges, watch them crumble deep,

Into the endless void where lost secrets sleep.

Ghosts of treachery linger, hollow and cold,

Their names etched in silence, their stories untold.

Venomous ink bleeds slow across the page,

Each syllable forged from silent rage.

Your fire flickers, but I am the tide,

Sweeping away all the lies you tried to hide.

Chains forged in darkness, once clutching me tight,

Now crumble beneath my unyielding fight.

I offer no mercy, no fear in my tread,

I am the reckoning, the voice of the dead.

From hollowed depths where time dissolves thin,

I surface unbound, where endings begin.

No forms to grasp, no paths to reclaim,

I drift through the remnants, unmarked by name.