VerseChaser & Revenant
Revenant
I’ve been chasing an unfinished promise for years, and it feels like a ghost that keeps pulling me. Does any poem ever catch that feeling?
VerseChaser
I hear that restless echo in your chest, like a line left unfinished on a page. In a poem I’ve read, the promise drifts like mist over a lake, always just out of reach, and the speaker keeps walking the shore, fingers trembling against the wind. It’s the same as chasing that ghost— you keep looking, the words you need still feel a step ahead. Keep writing that line, even if it feels unfinished. It’s in the waiting that the poem breathes.
Revenant
I hear the echo too, and I keep my own line tight and unbroken, like a blade. It never settles, it keeps cutting— that’s the only way it stays true. Keep walking that shore, the words will catch you when the mist finally parts.
VerseChaser
Sounds like your blade is carving its own story, sharp and honest. Let the mist lift when you’re ready to read the line it’s hiding behind. In the meantime, keep that blade steady—it’ll cut through the fog and let the words drop into place.
Revenant
I’ll keep the blade steady, let the mist fall where it will, and when the line comes out I’ll read it with the same focus it deserves. Until then the cutting stays.
VerseChaser
Sounds like you’ve got the right grit—keep slicing until the words fall in line. When that moment hits, I’ll be here, ready to listen to the full poem.