GRIEF Poem: Ghost Town, by Iryna Caspian

On the days my mind is not at war,
Grey clouded shadows appear,
Leaving a layer of mist over the field,
The raging battle gives way to the ghost town,
Haunted by faint images and quiet whispers.
I can see the silhouettes of people I knew,
And the outlines of places from my past.
I walk through my childhood home,
But the memories of violence are dulled,
Almost as if none of it was real.
My mother’s voice calls my name,
Soft and faded, and I fight the urge to reply.
My father speaks from the haze,
Desperately telling me he’s sorry,
But I can only give him heavy silence in return.
In my own room, I meet my younger self;
She meets my eyes looking for answers,
But I have none to give, only a lingering glance;
All I can say is this is not her fault, and to wait.
I can’t stay long in the house, so I try to find the door.
I revisit friends I’ve lost over the years,
The pain is there, but under a layer of dust.
I see my favorite places through a cracked lens,
And a piece of my heart aches to stay there.
But the danger of the ghost town is staying,
Staying locked in the pain of the past,
And never finding freedom in the light.
A voice calls me to return to the battlefield,
And my weary heart lives to fight another day.

Author: poetryfest

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