So much depended
upon

the hands that
counted breaths

the sixty constant
ticks

ears never seemed
to miss.

Your body is a story
waiting to be told.
Secrets unanswered,
treasuses unknown.

Your mind is a temple
treated with respect.
Undying intrest, unknown
effect.

Mystery and magic your
soul screams a release.
As mine is trapped in yours
echo, shattering my peace.

Endless screams of sorrow,
flow through you with fear.
Shattering waking moments,
swollowing back tears.

Dreaming dead, you never wake
And you can never see.
Trapped, darker parts
Forever in misery.

You dream in hope through
mystic fog, a cloud of life.
I die. Painfully. Forgotten
part of your never-ending strife.

Dreaming dead you'll always be,
and so forever shall I.
Waiting for the moment
My memories will die.

Insomniac, unresting mind.
Lost in loops. No meaning, time.

Craving peace, but finding pain.
Nothing left lost, yet nothing to gain.

Under the magic of the midnight sky,
A child of the moon, under heaven's
watchful eye.

Listen closely and you can hear their dreams.
Prayers yet answerd, wishes yet seen.

For they shine like the dying star,
a million miles away.

Yet seen in moments,
reminder of day.

Close your eyes and wish.
but you shall never dream.

For thee insomniac suffers
through what can never be seen.

I think it's in his eyes. . .
The piercing deep pools of mystery
Some find insanity, I find tranquility.

Or maybe in his smile. . .
When the mystery eludes it's self
His walls come down and you see him clearly.

I've found it in his voice.
Sweet, deep and smooth.
Like the taste of prefectly aged wine.
It washes over you.

I see it in his thoughts. . .
For his mind is his greatest weapon.
Speaking words of wisdom that send me
reeling in his meanings.

Or maybe in his features. . .
The perfectly sculpted lines of his face
As if perfected by none other than the
Gods themselves.

Others have seen it in his walk.
Smooth like the feel of satin on your skin
And confident enough to leave you staring.

Speechless.

Regardless of the physicality
You see.
I find individuality
That shines through his creativity.

His presence washes over me
Like ocean waves massage
The sand on a warm summers day.
I bask in it drunkenly.

Finding peace in his mystery
and passion in his artistry.

See, where those find fear I see actuality
And I know all that he can be.
Mentally and physically.

I immerse myself in the hope he brings to me.