Waving at those ghosts that stalk me
They are the fears that still haunt me
Departed shadows live but in memory
They make a quiet life an impossibility
I never left my home, my sacred ground
I remember those voices, the words
I remember their form and the sound
All the while I wonder, truly ponder
Does my mortal flesh belong here
When all the of the voices I hear
Instead come from the grey lands
Their silent home, the Isle of the Dead
"We are all but dust and shadow."
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