Gossamer Wraith

There is another hidden
and soft as an imagined thing.
Indistinguishable,
perched above the abyss,
silent, never sleeping.
Ever watchful she waits,
drowning in her wanting,
forever on the fringe
of the darkness
that conceals her
from her enemies.
All that is invisible follows her,
laying scattered behind her
like a trail of broken things.
So are the dreams
she once held close.
Relinquished.
A single sigh escapes from
her gossamer existence
like a wispy gasp.
Tattered and weary
she is bent by the wait,
hungry for hope and
needing a reason to breathe.