Dearest, winter's coming soon,
and I'm so far away from you.
And even this blue misted dawn
reminds me of you.
Soon the birds will cease to call,
as the east wind is blowing through.
And between us there's a wall
and my mind is feeling blue.
The days are waning, dearest,
and the nights they last so long.
I'm so afraid, my darling,
that by the Summer you'll be gone.
A/N Long distance relationship, huh? Tell me about it.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming off the Cliff
PoetryPoetry assembled from the very depths of a deranged mind. Trigger warning. Tragedy ensues.