A mound of dirt and a line of trees—
Both point to some truth once known but inevitably forgotten.
A dream—a dream from times past.
My heart casts upon this place suspicion and doubt.
Where is he?
This figure cloaked in shadow.
Is he near?
Is he waiting?
How long until I see him nearby?
The haze of awaking clouded my eyes.
But this place—this place brings it back anew.
Running. I was running.
And falling from fright.
How long until I see him?
This figure who has the power to appear and disappear at will.
He came. He chased. He tormented.
How long until this man of shadow returns?
The beauty of nature, affected by memory, is interrupted.
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This Poems Story
When the overwhelming feeling of déjà vu struck, the ominous recollection of a long-forgotten truth resurfaced.