literature

Empty Visions Heavy On His Consciousness

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Literature Text

It's only with you that I want to see it through.
The way life might bring about some miraculous light.
Splendors that break the gray silence in this forest of bamboo.
The leaves are frozen unmoved by the crushing heat waves' might.

I wish to find peace away from such a climate.
There are no animals around only vegetation and death.
The hot nights are like midday baking to find a desert diamond.
Sunrise comes, rain is ever brief then becomes snow in a frigid breath.

Beautiful as it may seem to watch the elements dance;
Tragic as it is to live here against desolate demise at every corner.
Rivers exist, ice solid then thawed and boiling by nightfall in a glance.
Once inside such waters nothing tells the story of the entrancing horror.

I stay here waiting for her, my lovely flower.
A promise made long ago before my consciousness here arose.
Gripping onto her roses is all I know, now crystallized and ebony sour.
The thorns barely sharp, left dull like my soul losing it's sweet aroma.

Gales howl hourly, seemingly the only inhabitant aside from myself.
They whisper between the hollowed stems void of any repose.
In my sleep the sounds translate as hers, a voice of an heavenly elf.
These tricks on my mind and lies rooted to my heart, I continue to doze.

My slumber may be the end of me today.
I am not human anymore, I hear deep within.
Just as I feel the need to give up, someone is sobbing with dismay.
I float on-wards to the source and can't believe my eyes, a lifted sin.

The thought that she finally came to see the love she once had.
Feelings burst from my ethereal form and I reach out to embrace.
She walks past me to the grave stone with my name in red.
I forgot once again that I am bound to this separate place.

Dying never hit me until I felt her so close.
Crying tears that can't be heard.
Happy that she still cares, lost in misery as my body is still in decompose.
I can feel it as it rots, my emotions locking me in like a ward guard.

Blacking out, I wake up again from what feels like a lifetime.
Whatever it was I witnessed was nothing new, but strangely familiar.
I'm alive and it was just a dream in a world unbeknownst and benign.
Showing what I truly should be gracious for, my love next to me clearer.

Does she ever go through these same emissions?
Is she seeing it as how I wish to be with her within such imagination?
If our tale is fated to be what isn't or not, foreshadowing to true conditions;
I will cherish every moment with her with endless passionate dedication.
In his dreams, he is long dead and his love is weeping after him. He questions if this happens with the opposite meaning in her dreams.
These visions make him more dedicated to the time they both have together.
Since, he wonder if these strange dreams are warnings of what could happen, if he doesn't stay true to his lover.
© 2014 - 2024 HanOneSail
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