Ghost of Sorrow
written by: Lunar Titan
Cold Glass
I ask you plainly, have you ever felt despair? Have you ever felt weight crushing down on your chest, like a car rolling over you, slowly and with grave intention? Loathing those who are the source of all agony, bitter in mind and in spirit, yet irresponsible and unwilling to intervene to stave off suffering? Mentally the victim, though in reality the assassin. Swipe swiftly the cold glass, ghastly eyes gazing back at you, your assassin staring with bloodlust and hunger, yearning to bring you low. Your greatest demon whispers coldly, “You will never be free.”
Mud & Sand
Trapped in sand, each grain of time falls slowly but at the speed of eternity. Like a ladder in a bottomless pool of mud, climbing up towards freedom with desperate will, but every step brings you lower and lower. Do you give up? Surely it’s of no use, the bog will swallow you whole. What good is it to go be bed tired when there is no tomorrow? Surely I will let go and close my eyes, letting today become the tomorrow I will never see.
Prison of Darkness
Crippled, and yet I walk, or is it more accurate to say I crawl? No light to shine on my steps, a question fills my mind. Am I moving or am I still? I blink and only see emptiness. A second time, but the blindness persists. A prison of my own making, but the jailer taunts the key before my face, daring me to reach, sword in sheath, begging to harrow flesh and soul. Fear is the ultimate shackle; no chains needed here. Though it binds incorporeal, it is indeed still so. A commanding hand raised, like an animal to master obeys “stay.”
False Ghost’s Blame
Does responsibility shape the soul? I find that hard to believe, and yet my mind wanders. Blame falls on the masses; surely one at least is to blame. Indeed, not one would contest, the blame is surely at least one. THE one. Deceitful liar, your rage will never quell while you close your eyes and plug your ears to the convenience or harsh truths. You know of whom I speak and yet daren’t speak the name. It is difficult, impossible even, but of course not speech. Words that wound are easier choked when aimed at the self, but a victor may only emerge once a battle has been fought. The false ghost sews the lips of those who are unwilling to admit.
An Empty Audience
Weep while you can, do you see that you deserve this? Pestilence was never without, but has always been within. The worst plague to man is the self in its weakest moments; it believes the illusions of lowliness. Get up! Will you not? Revelation upon you and yet you still remain idle, actionless. Coward! Backed into a corner, not out of threat, but out of self-pity and loathing. Dare not step forward? Do you believe the world is a slick slope, laughing audiences awaiting your slide back to the bottom? Coward! An empty audience knows no voice; why not climb and defy the odds? Your ascent beholds clamor demanding you reach the apex, unburdened and weightless, as the bright angel weeps once more, forgiveness.
A Season of Warmth
Better in the light, perhaps if only just a little. A tiny sliver exists but is prone to wilting like a malnourished seedling. Water your garden, may it one day bear fruit. Complacency forsakes the whole field and leaves you with naught. Do you understand it now? The angel forgave once, but complacency will be cruel. A mind edified is surely the key in the lock to the door that holds potential. Heed the angel’s voice, “You were forgiven, now forgive me too.” A moment of hesitation, but a nod soon follows, and a warmth brings season and melts previously icy hearts. Angelic hands fall upon shoulders, and in stillness, a whisper is made. Your hands in my own, I look into the frostless glass and utter the angel’s whispered words as I lift my head sheepishly and gaze into the eyes staring back at me, “There is hope for you.”
Vigilance & Hope
It’s difficult, truly, but nobody believes you because an experience is had but rarely fully seen. Do you feel it for the first time in ages you can’t remember? Cheeks tightened, the false ghost no longer clutches you. But never you waver, the ghost stalks its prey in the night. Safety is likely, but not for the unwise. Should you folly and walk the darkened hall where your certain demons dwell, chaos is bound to reclaim you. Vigilance, the only thing keeping you alive. Hear the chime of the bell, hope calling you forward with its resonant tune. A focused will can become unbreakable, but friend, be vigilant, the ghost longs for its old prison mate and will gladly see your return.
Ghost of Jealousy, Ghost of Despair
You were never pure, but once certainly defeated. Do you recognize the ghost looking back at you? They are jealous and envious that you have forgotten them, but no, you never really forgot, did you? “Time heals all wounds,” a laughable phrase, at least that’s what I once believed. Wounds can heal; surely you know this to be true, you have lived it, so how can you not believe? Perhaps not time alone, but with even the slightest fragment of light and hope, possibility may emerge. Don’t believe me? Ask the ghost. It weeps with loneliness because you spit out the poison it once fed you to keep you submerged in doubt. Why suffer alone when it could drag you down with it? The blackened cuffs can never clasp where light abounds. “You are a prisoner, no more.”
Remembrance & Visible Future
A chance, a hope, a breathable breath. Not as impossible as the ghost once told me. Why does it rain on a sunny day with no clouds in sight? Streams wander my cheeks as I replay angelic words and remember the face I forgave. “There is hope for me,” and I remind myself often, this is not by chance but by hard work, faith, and forgiveness. Once consigned to a saturated world devoid of hue, and now immersed in a colorful reality. Work still to be done, but I’ll never forget the miles crawled to escape clutches that only sought ill. “I am something, I am worthy, and I will persevere. I am ALIVE.”
- Ghost of Sorrow - November 20, 2025
