The air of madness all around him
that madness that drives one so implicitly on,
with no rime or reason,
to search for that unforgetful image.
whether it'll be real or imaginary.
that obsessive need to search deep into one's mind
not just the shadows but the truth, that lives in one's soul
What one visionary see's, or believes one sees
that light that one's been searching for such a long time
as one crosses that unforgetful road,
one stands there, tears welling up, but refusing to shed.
Remembering, remembering how good it used to be.
Just then, the not so quite full moon,
hidden behind a veil like, gossamer.
shines on that unattainable beloved face,
that's ingrained in one's mind.
Yet again is it real, or just imaginary
but one cares not, as one finds oneself uttering the words,
in ones constricted throat.
I love you ...
By Connie James 22/10/13
No comments:
Post a Comment