Random Poetry

And I Miss Her

I'm sad and I don't know why,
My heart weeps because I cannot cry.
I want to find her again, but she's away
Removed as the night is from the day.

I miss her and I don't even think she's real,
Which makes it all the worse. What a strange thing to feel.
I feel her calling me, as if she existed in truth,
An emptiness eternal, like an old man dreaming of youth.

Only her, embodied with the spirit of my King,
As she held me before (oh that wondrous song she'll sing),
Could calm the storm that rages to rain down.
If I can't see her again I'd prefer to give up and drown.

No one can understand this love that I speak of here.
They'd either mock or fool themselves with soulful tear.
I still could not tell you why I wish to make a sea.
I just hopelessly beg for her to be here with me.

Oh, nameless angel of my dreams, a past enviously true,
In the lonely minutes of the day, all my thoughts are given to you.
I recall the window-filled room, like it plays before me eyes.
You held me like a babe, with a lover's smile, swallowing my cries.

If, by God's mercy, you be real somewhere in Heaven's warm embrace
I thank you from my soul's very depths for the glimpse of such a loving face.
An aesthetic could only envy in sorrow for such a conversation of mute,
Such a world beyond my senses, known to remind me of the world beyond the fruit.