You, The dream I had often held
like a child holds a curiosity.
Dark eyes and deep thoughts
like some unknown mystery.
What I would give to feel you.
to know your hallowed pain.
To live each moment washed
ashore, drenched in the rain.
What would I do to know your
story and touch your secrets.
I would relish them, taste them
like your kiss upon my lips.
The story of a man, a legend left
in a bitter, crumbling old shell.
You are but a fragment of that
which makes you so very real.
OH! But you live with this passion
you live your dream, be it dark.
I long to feel your words, let them
settle like weights upon my heart.
They look upon your soul with a
gaze of fear and selfish contempt.
And I wonder, Why do they ask who
you are instead of where you went.
Maybe I'm misguided, naive and a
bit silly to search for your reprieve.
yet I know, I have seen the angel
in black that only you could be.
So I stand on shaking ground you
give no hints of how far I may go.
Have I crossed a border drawn a
line of which only you would know?
And time dwindles, wasting away.
I shall move , fade then disappear.
With not a word, gesture nor motion
left quiet the words I long to hear.
I will leave but a solatairy tear to
mourn for the man I did not know.
Who kept his heart. Kept his dream
to none, not I would he ever show.
He will become a moment of which
I will never want to leave to time.
He would only speak in riddles. I
think, if only he had spoke in rhyme.
