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Midnight at Widows Hill - by Jennie E. FURR
An aching moon
Crushes the
Raw sea with a symphony
Of delirious love, yet
I walk alone in the
Languid shadows.
You are Eternity and
I am bare beneath
Your misty fingers.
Are you real?
My body responds to your phantom touch
And I cry out your name, trembling as the
Tormented wind echoes against
The cliffs that surround me with
Their emptiness.
It certainly feels as though
I should have never made you
The caretaker of my soul.
To say I want my life back now would
Be too cruel--you must, after
All, keep something of me
With you, wherever you are...
It?s the only way we can be
Together now, though our spirits
Can no longer live as
One being.
Your departure took everything from me,
And I hate you for leaving me
Alone like this.
Memories torture me--I am
Their helpless victim
When I think of you and
Dreams are all I have left
Of our illusions of happiness.
My dreams are an inferno that
Destroys me in an agonizing haze of
Unexperienced ecstasy.
I lie on a bed of thorn filled roses
Oblivious to their pain,
Ignoring the slow bleeding of my
Heart as my tears drown me
In my sleep.
But do I really want to awaken?
I cannot escape the truth, for it
Is written in the frothy abyss of
The sea, written resolutely
In an ever-changing pattern
Of despair.
It all seems so clear now...
I am nothing without you.
My life is mere existence and
The light you once gave me
Has been consumed by the
Everlasting darkness of my solitude.
Your spirit is my only link
To an irretrievable past.
Though I wonder if you?ll be there,
Waiting for me when I finally have the
Courage to join you, the sea whispers
An answer of pagan sacrifice
To me-
The answer is no.
JeF 1/8/99
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