i stand amid the dieing grass
on a hill empty of even a flower
engulfed in the beauty of its utter silence
no words are spoken
not a sound whispered
hear i feel like nothing but sand
seeping through your finer tips
to join the pitless waves of forlonging
here i am safe
in the quite serenity
no one can tell what i lack
what i am starving for
here time is nonexistent
and irrelevant
here it is so easy to become lost
between the the starkess sky
and barren landscape
i shall never return to the hell
from which i have come
the morning light breaks
like a rising infreno
setting my hill on fire
and i will not escape the inevitable
as the last shadow turns to ash
it is my time to be a ghost