The Walk

As I walk this lonely road hurting and weary, but not defeated to take my place near the golden thrown at the feet where my Father is seated

Phantoms

years have gone by still your scent lingers Even now I feel you in the space between my fingers … your voice is the hint of a whisper softer than the gentlest breeze your touch is that of a phantom that brings me to my knees … the memories that I keep locked away, inside … More Phantoms