Los Vanuit

Within the mantle of my soul's domain,
Where shadows writhe and linger, whispering pain,
There lies a tale of woe, a haunting refrain,
Lost amid the tempest's cruel disdain.

Beneath the cloak of twilight's somber shroud,
They vanished silently, amidst the crowd.
In the depths where sorrow and despair are allowed,
Hope's flickering candle dims, a mournful cloud.

Amidst the shifting currents of life's harsh decree,
Collaboration fractured, dreams adrift at sea.
In the abyss where specters roam so free,
Frustration's tendrils coil, a tangled spree.

Yet amidst the shadows, a glimmer of light,
Alternate paths emerge, dispelling night.
Seeking solace in the void's endless flight,
A guide's whispered counsel, a beacon bright.

Thus in the cryptic realms of sorrow's reign,
Where echoes linger and ghosts remain,
A dance of loss and hope, an eternal strain,
In the poet's heart, forever to maintain.