I have enveloped you with my dying hands
And everything that might bring you here
From some place in my dreams.

Death would be a cruel death
If I have none to hold, my love.
Truly, my heart still seeks for you:

You, my dearest,
My pain, my breath;
The song that carries me to a long lost echo;
The echo that appears to be my nightsong,
Must curse me:

To bring old painful truth
On lasting new memories,
To bind forgotten lips
On long-forgotten lips,
And to have you--
Though not having you-

Gifted to be as loving as angels,
Gifted to just roam the earth
Without a face,
Or flesh--

Taking the final form...
...of pure love.

© 2010 J.S.P.