Yet another sleepless night.
She was a solivagant,
Wandering through the woods of thoughts,
Where the paths to retrace were strewn with the oblivion flowers.
She lingered where the whispers stirred,
Where echoes of her past would creep,
A labyrinth of memories,
Lost between the silence and the dreams she’d keep.
Each branch that brushed her weary soul,
Held secrets she could never tell,
In the heart of her thought forest,
She found both her heaven and her hell.
