It’s not the endings which will haunt you,
But the path where it will lead.
Things will simply be faded and muddy,
But the pain is in expecting for a final goodbye.
It’s not the certainty that will haunt you,
But your own hoard of questions,
With half wicked answers,
Which your mind will attempt to fix it,
But their crooked shaped won’t be able to fit in.
It’s not the fight that will haunt you,
But the silence of unspoken words,
Which will sit inside your mind, screaming,
Fostering the confusion and confounding.
It’s not your darkness that will haunt you,
But the people who don’t understand,
Who claims you being insignificant.
Can you recollect all of your iron will,
Can you upsurge the power of your magic spill,
To release your fear,
To make yourself clear,
From all the haunting juncture,
From all the wicked answers.
Can you make yourself as water,
Forceful enough to drown your fear,
Yet pure enough to cleanse your tear.
Via daily prompt: release