Jamm

The mist, a shroud of pearl and grey,
Hangs heavy, clinging to the day.
A chill wind whispers, low and deep,
Where secrets in the shadows sleep.
Echoes rise, like whispers faint,
Of lives now lost, a mournful saint.
They drift and swirl, a ghostly choir,
Each breath a tear, a soul's desire.
Through fog-veiled fields and ancient trees,
The echoes dance on spectral breeze.
A lover's sigh, a warrior's call,
A mother's plea, to heed them all.
The past unfurls, a tattered scroll,
Of laughter bright and broken soul.
The echoes weep, a silent sound,
Lost stories on this hallowed ground.
And as the sun begins to fade,
The ghostly whispers, unafraid,
Remain, a haunting, tender strain,
Echoes of the dead, through mist and rain.
(Jamm)

My dreams, like wisps of smoke and sigh

Ascend on currents, pale and high

They drift beyond the moonlit sphere

To realms where shadows hold no fear

They float to Hades, dark and deep

Where Styx's waters softly weep

A realm of myth, a shadowed land

Where echoes whisper, hand in hand

My hopes and fears, in shades of gray

Are borne on winds that softly sway

They seek the ferryman's dark boat

Where souls embark, and memories float

Through fields of asphodel they roam

A silent journey, far from home

My dreams, they seek a final rest

Within the bosom of the blessed

Or shadowed corners, cold and deep

Where secrets slumber, mysteries sleep

My dreams are floating, lost to sight

To Hades' shores, in endless night

(Jamm)