Footsteps In the Hall
I wait to hear your footsteps in the hall
The night is low and I a wretched beast
The pain of empty arms will not relent
As I lay down my head to try and rest
The violet night winds begin to blow
They whisper of the songs you sang to me
It silences the torture and the fear
That you may not return to me tonight
I taste your lips in wine stained tears of love
The fire’s warmth, a hopeless substitute
I wait to hear your footsteps in the hall
I’ll wait, my love, until we are as one
Copyright © Mike Gentile | Year Posted 2017
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