A Phantom Ending

It always feels like everything has already come to an end.

Those around me are the ghost of their memories, 

brought to me by the fervored rejection of this harsh reality.

The empty shades of the past,

carried forth by the very unwillingness I bear to allow it to slip away.

Everything I loved is dead.

No actions I take can ever reverse the dreadnought of shame, of guilt, of all I have ever held in regard.

Crushed like the petals of a freshly bloomed rose, under the icy foot of Death.

I am left alone, in the very castle I imprisoned these memories within.

The fear of loneliness, giving the scope of how things are.

Hence, the projections of these phantoms into my physical understanding.

I do not want to be alone any more.