Ghost

When will this be over with? When Can I move on?

The hollow crevice in my soul is like a permanently tragic song.

I stretch my arms where you should be but my fingers clasp only air.

Your scent has left for good i fear, and the pain is too much to bear.

I clench my fingers into fists and I seize my only hope.

This is all a dream I say.

Nothing more then that, to this ghost.