Written by Emily Harstone | January 26, 2017
Sometimes the spirits are what remain.
Dust has settled on the ages!
Once, this had been his home.
After all, emptiness, too, leaves its mark
The air was stale and cold.
Two dusty bottles; I am home
No fingerprints, no footprints, only light
In the dungeon underneath the cabin…
Decades passed, the creature dwelled still.
So long ago, and far away.
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Sometimes the spirits are what remain.
Dust has settled on the ages!
Once, this had been his home.
After all, emptiness, too, leaves its mark
The air was stale and cold.
Two dusty bottles; I am home
No fingerprints, no footprints, only light
In the dungeon underneath the cabin…
Decades passed, the creature dwelled still.
So long ago, and far away.