songs of old...

triumphant muses

sing their tunes...

a bell tolls to the far east.

a shiver runs down a well-braced spine,

and his dreams mix with distorted reality.

trembling hands,

pacing feet.

impatient for a love

that may never come his way.

tangles of vines suffocate

the deathly quiet passages

of his heart and

he stares.

melancholy

and awake.

fully unaware

of the trials soon to come.

a flicker of despair

dies

in the radiance of her

heart.

his one heart.

footsteps approach that

were never meant to exist.

they never did exist

fully.

never will.

retreat to the shadows of

your world that never was,

and slink into the blackness

of the heart

you wish you had.