I reach for your hand
but you slip right through my fingers.
You are like a ghost
wandering through my empty halls.
I try to touch you
but feel only the mist that lingers
in the cold, damp air
that clings to my bare walls
I try to love you
but what is offered is not taken.
You hide yourself inside
and ignore my plaintive pleas.
If I fall asleep
will you be there when I awaken?
Or will you float away
like a whisper lost upon the breeze?
May 25, 2003 by Mark Allen Thomas
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
