Gazebo

Her hair was unaffected as she sat down
Marble benches her only support
She felt the walls of her womb disappear
She relied on her last resort

But he was nowhere to be seen,
Wise to her teachings and lack thereof
Her hand cold as the stone underneath
Her blood running like scarabs

There is no why. There is no how.
The answers are there for comfort
There are no answers. Only questions.
The teacher had finally learned.

Gone were those moments
Only remnants of them remained

Alas, those ghosts played
Whimsical with their empty fingers
Another two souls tangled
Yet, they never were together

She fell as if she could stand
Tuesday, a lost passage found
Other members grabbing at her dress
Pout, she did. Supporting their dismay

Problems? Probably.
Losing to who? Another ghost.
Evil? Not in the least bit.
Another ghost? Not anymore.
Starting over.
Especially today.