Whimsical Poetry

The Aching.

In a field of Carmellia's,
In the distance is you.
The sky is darkening,
The sky is dark blue.

Every step towards you,
My foot gets stuck on exposed roots.
The distance only expands further,
I can't help but feel like a fool.

I call out to you, a hand outstretched.
My voice is caught, I feel nothing but distress.

The fog thickens with every passing moment.
Your silhouette growing all the more distant.

"Can you see me from there?"
I continue wonder.
The dark blue gets darker.
The air cold, like the winter.

"Can you hear me from there?"
I went on to question.
I can only hear the wind.
While your silhouette only beckons.

"My darling, come closer."
I pleaded with your distant frame.

But you never did answer.

And it all stayed the same.