My Poetry

Left Behind

My skin aches for the light touch of your fingertips,
Eyes yearn to drink in the vision of your face.
My heart breaks at the lack of the press of your lips,
Hands claw at the mud over your resting place.

My soul viciously tears at my flesh from within
Darkly driving me to find and join you there,
And screaming to escape the prison of my skin;
I cannot and will not live without you here.

My home has been buried in the cold, lonely earth;
My love has been devoured by Death's clutching shadow.
Without you I am lost and breathing has no worth.
I'll lie in your arms and be free of my sorrow.