Thoughts falling to ground, petals made of lead
My body wilting, devoid of life;
That your sunlight brings to me
Your sweet raindrops of time, given freely
To enrich the foliage of my mind –
Like Chopin’s Prelude, tranquilizing
And a torrent of sustenance.
Only thoughts and dreams, in the wake
Of the riches of your being
As desolation breaks my helm,
Wrecks my stern and fractures my soul
Waiting for the hiatus that is you.
The link, the chain – to raise
This anchored and wretched frame
From waters of interminable despair.
Only then, can I believe
In the flicker that is hope.
Neil W.