Our journey was brief
nearly as long as
a walk in that park
down by her place,

fleeted like the sound
of a crackling leaf,
on that roadwalk home
in utter solace,
oh how I decieve my years,
for those mere minutes,

they may be
demonic nightmares
pushing you to limits,
to me they're dreams,
worth more than
every passing wakings.

I often sit at the pavement,
tired by the bereavement,
perhaps from there
our journey resumes,
but this time
the stroll consumes,
that's how I'll go.

I'll return from my exile,
back on country roads
lodging in this foreign space,
another one of my "abodes".
I'll apologize for their trouble,
while the true abode
and your essence residing still
will have turned to rubble,
four walls and the roof,
embraced you in the flesh,
when even to me
they were aloof.
The bed and the pillows,
clasped you to sleep
gold brown hair all set free
years later,
it will have been buried
with your essence residing still
in the abode's dead debris.

Words may fall short
one seldom night,
we may never resuscitate
in this life's daylight,
should I rest this quest?
once and for all,
at my thespian's behest?
We may not come to life
a faint sense of hope stays,
may you come to, in reality,
until then it's separate ways.

Pelting hail
on the window pane
awakens me,
jogs my memory,
a year passed in vain,
and a lucky man's year,
with his face buried deep
in her gold brown mane,
to think it was me,
wouldn't that be insane.

The meadows of his visage,
soil cracking with age,
all it takes is her thought
and the meadows
cease to rot.

Each one in his dream's domicile,
tears racing down their eyes,
for the day may not be far
down the aisle,
when the prolonging dreams
and the reality blend,
and so do they, in the end.

It isn't a certainty,
but a man can hope can't he?
hope made it viable,
he made past the ordeal,
now it comes to a close,
it is but human to think
a reunion is undeniable.

The past fades, it must,
alas! you fade to dust,
oblivion be thy death,
you are but a phantom,
words be thy breath,
mine in writing them.

Vicariously,
you pull through,
A man merely has one
yet this one gives life to two?
One as elegant and lovely,
her immortality
deserved to be made true,
words be thy breath,
mine in writing them.

Dreams be thy eyes,
mine sinking in them,
hours, days, months,
passed and to come,
Our kin never dies,
never did, never will.

No more sinking in your eyes
no whispers in my ears,
perhaps it should've
stayed with me
in all my years,
it's the next best thing,
in this world of lies.
In each waking moment,
in every drop of daylight
fading you are,
stains on a wet cloth,
burning you are,
I embrace, I hold fast
embracing the dying light,
saving it with all my life,
a yearning moth.