Gray
Allison Walters Luther
When the voices of ghosts
who walk the halls echo
And whispers come from dark corners
of empty rooms
Memories obscured by
curtains of mist hang at dusk
long after all the leaves have fallen
Haunted by those we cannot remember
and those we wish we could forget
Like a metronome that skips a beat
so do we skip faded heartbeats
When everything is
gray