Pandora’s Box

In the early morning twilight

A ghostly apparition passes by,

And the silence speaks volumes

As the lady with the sad eyes

Looks ever downwards to the ground.

Her appearance is melancholy

And her hunched shoulders  droop

As if she bears the burden of Atlas.

We’re worlds apart as we go our ways

But like the ‘Ground Hog Day’

She appears the following day

And my psyche is haunted

By thoughts of a lonesome soul

Looking for hope in Pandora’s Box?