Vast expanses of land
In slumber, I take your hand
Remember, we are too gentle
To fade away.
I wish I could be brave
I would reach out and
Take what I have been
Deprived of, of my own fault.
Sordid nights, affairs most
Wish to forget and yet,
Your life rings like a bell
That sounds and finds me.
In the dark I wait so
Patiently for rescue
But I must get to my feet
And follow the chimes.
Perhaps it is finally my time.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
