Dear ghost,
What violent murky river must I cross, to obstinately cherish my strength. What insidious hill must I climb, to fierily groom my upstanding. But there are signs I have overlooked. Signs such as the time that pillaged my heart's honour, the creatures who looted my undeserved glory, the scammer friend who left me undone and the unpaid servant of my tyranny. All but a companion of myself. The snow have refused to fall this winter too, and the cold is ever harsh. Yet the winter inside me can not be more cold so I long to hibernate in the cave of my solace. To fall into a deep deep slumber until summer returns.
Yours