lacking.

endless days of the moon,
lit up by the eyes of angels
and the winter light-sprites.
through the cracks and contusions of the weathered house,
the nightly light creeps into the room.
absent of soul and lacking in will,
reluctant and fatigued, let me sleep.

another night spent dwelling
on fractured dreams and broken vows.
things that were never true
and things you'd wish you never knew.
another empty, thankless home,
another night without a ghost.