Old Yellowed Ghost

I woke with a start
 Found myself within a forest dark,
 With but a shade to guide me
 The path long lost, I faced the looming hill
 So far away.
 The ghost motioned not to stay
 Three withered steps
 And the path behind a distant memory
 A distant spark, midst winters breath
 which misguided hope could never fan
 Old, yellowed ghost, tearing the strings
 from the puppet master's idle hands (at straws we clutch)
 An empty glass,
 pour out another of myself
 Once more alas
 the butchers bill remains unpaid
 An empty gaze,
 the mirror shakes its head in shame
 The ghost departs
 Beneath the shadow of the hill
 A pointless path, midst winters breath
 which misguided steps can never find
 Old, yellowed ghost, abandoning
 First lead the way, then simply leave it all behind
 OH! There is no absolution
 No grand epiphany left to fake
 The old ghost had left me here for dead
 Lo! There is no grand solution
 Only the forward path to take
 Towards the pinnacle blindly tread
 Headlong to failure, no wisdom here to find
 Ghost of the void
 Belong to failure, give in to nothingness
 Follow the void
 Follow the ghost
 Drown in the void
 OH!! Abandon all hope ye who enter here!
 Old, yellowed ghost, sever the strings
 from the puppet master's broken hands