Omer Tarin

What are these black thoughts, clutching at my heart? Whispers in the dark, shadows that never part. They consume me, piece by piece Leaving emptiness in their wake A longing for paths not taken, Dreams deferred, that arise now Out of some unknown depth, and call out In somber voices, echoing throughout the length Of my hollow chambers, where ghostly figures dance And darkness gathers, like dust and age But still I breathe, in this empty space,  A fragile pulse beats, a flickering light That casts a gentle glow upon the darkest walls Guiding me subtly through the night