Seconds, minutes, hours,
and time merges them together
until day gives way to night
and I walk the shadowed halls
of each weakness I possess.
Night comforts and caresses
like a lover’s gentle hands
and I stir within a dream
frightened there to see
love walks a lonely path
beyond my mental feel.
Wakeful now, aware,
but dreaming still I see
the coming in of loneliness
and I suffocate.
(Photograph by Gareth Howell)
“Breathe”, she says,
and I listen to the gurgle
of one by love possessed
rise up and out in agony
into the still and silent night.
Dramatic for effect
and I read the words, reflect;
who writes the pain and heartache
of unrequited love?
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Good grief, this is a spectacular write!
The picture makes the mix perfect.
Sad reality, depth, depth, depth!!
Love this write.
Maybe “gripping” is a better word to express this poem.
It has a mesmerizing effect. Have you posted this on PIP??
If not, I hope you do.
JL:)
JL – This was written a while back now by the “soul” no doubt and the sad reality is that although things change around us, the soul doesn’t until … something dramatic happens. Nothing dramatic has happened so the poem is still relevant. Fortunately, however, we can (as I’ve proved) live through many not so wonderful things.
Thank you for always commenting. I really do appreciate it.
Helen