Thursday, September 03, 2009

The Fading You

And thus draws the night dark nigh;
with that dies the hope high,
and as the clear day turns to gray;
only that old fear seems to stay.

Will this night be, one of those,
spent with questions, your memories pose;
while in my bed, I lay awake,
and with the imaginary you, talks I fake?

Or, is this going to be a simpler one;
where sleep will have a decent run,
and in my dreams you will come;
talking some, listening to some?

Night is dying, and I fear the dawn ahead;
like those dreams blur, will you fade?
Or, like those days of yore;
from your heart again, you'll pour?