The rain dribbles
off the awnings
As I wake
On this gray August morning
Dreams of flowers
And forgotten
Woodland paths
Fading into the cool
Reality of a wet world
A haunted world
Where I still limp
Like a wounded soldier
Lost in the limbo
Of past defeats
Having surrendered my will
To superior forces
My once righteous flags
Unfurled but limp at my side
Dripping not of tears or blood
Merely rain
Old hosts fading into memory
As I dream of peace
Craving for paths
Least trod upon
And the company
Of spirits.
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