Spectations

A study, of words, in crimson, sometimes blue, rarely yellow.

Afraid of the Dark

Once again, surrounded by things
He said to me.
Once again, in the middle of
The life we made.

& in the night, she hears the voices, Screaming for him, & she tries to save him, But she is always a bit too late, & he is always a bit too far.

& in the night, she hears the voices, Screaming for him, & she tries to save him, But she is always a bit too late, & he is always a bit too far.

It’s not pain I feel,
But a bit of him,
That still lives inside me,
Alone in a silent corner of my being.

He cries at night,
Afraid of the dark,
The voices that beckon him
Into places unknown.

He struggles to live
Freely, beyond the chains
Of memories of the times
When life was full & love was wild

& every night, they come
For him, calling his name,
Disturbing his sleep
Intruding on his solitude

& every night he resists
Struggling, calling my name,
For the besotted lover
To come help his foresaken soul.

& every night, I wake up,
Afraid of the shadows,
Screaming for God’s mercy,
For him to be taken…

…far away from me…!

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