WAKING OF THE DEAD.

poem

Where are you when I can hear you in the corners of my mind,
blindly feeling to where youre voice is echoeing inside,
I am so blind I cannot see, you frustration is all I can find,
your voice is stereophonic whirling round and round,
but where are you as I grope my way around the corridors of time,
from a past that I once knew with you, but now have left behind.
Behind the shadow of your voice I hear you reaching to the present,
but I am still blind until the fog clears from my inner eyes.
I see your ghostly presence in the shadows of the walls,
is it a trick or have you come to show me the opening of another door.
I cannot reach out and touch you like I had done so from before,
but my sense can smell and feel you as though you were not left behind,
or are you saying that it is me that has been left behind as blackness chokes?
showing me that there is another dimension when the time is right,
and you will wait for me on the other side while I bide my time.

Reviews

[steppenwolf]

Dreamy and flowing.

[Jem]

I really like the darker poetry, and this a splendid example, Sue. Lovely imagery which paints the story just enough for the reader yet leaves a little to the imagination. I really like this a lot.

Beautiful quill

Jem

[sue]

Thank you for your comment. Means a lot. :)