Ghosts haunt
dark corridors,
moaning echoes
in my bones.
Empty eyes
gaze down on
me
with fallacious
faces of failure.
From above
the grave
I dug
for myself,
capacious,
full of filth
and guilt.
My unfinished
headstone,
marks the
unexamined life.
Grim apparitions
Potential
and
Promise
taunt.
While in and out
fades
my inevitable
wake
that none
attend
not even
me.
As I
become
less than
the total
sum of
my parts
haunting
myself.

M. Zane McClellan

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