In the stillness of my past

In the stillness of my past
I wander through its streets alone.
The town’s a maze of shadows
that led me to this unknown.
Its moon's an opaque plight
that feeds upon this troubled hour.
I hear the whispers of past flesh,
ancestors’ sepia,
a haunting, mournful grace.
I searched for meaning in the chaos,
but only found more emptiness bestowed.
And yet, this vortex
radiates one sliver of hope.
A ray to guide my steps,
to help me find my way to cope.
In the stillness of my past,
I am not alone.
For I carry within me,
and me alone,
all that I have known.​