All pass like ghosts unseen,
Their voices fade, a silent scream.
Their touch, a fleeting apparition,
In this world of my ambition.

For they seem dead to me, and I to them,
Lost in a labyrinth, a requiem.
A reflection, stark and cold,
In the mirror, my story told.

In solitude’s embrace, I roam,
Where shadows dance, and echoes groan.
Nary a soul to call my own,
In this realm where I’m alone.