Longing is an ache,

walking a lonely path,

covered with fallen leaves.

Longing is steel,

shackled to my feet,

painting red the shadows of eves.

Longing is a faded fragrance,

riding the autumn wind,

on wings of a tired butterfly.

Longing is a poison,

a floating black swan,

singing softly, a sad lullaby.

Longing is a darkness,

lurking behind shadows,

tainting the brightness of each day.

Longing is a fear,

of the known and the unknown,

apprehension of doom, black and grey.

You may also like

No Comments

Leave a Reply