Hours
HOURS
The hour is sadly, quickly drawing nigh,
when I am no longer able to look into your eye.
Upon great, silver wings I will fly
up into the atmosphere, under blue sky,
to places that are a lifetime away,
while, in this niche you will stay.
The edges of my world have begun to fray,
realizing, how much I will miss you, every day!
The hour is sadly, quickly drawing nigh,
when I am no longer able to look into your eye.
Images of you will dissipate and I will sigh.
With that sound in the air, in my head, I will die,
a little with each and every breath.
Before my minds eye, all I see is death,
of the time that lies between when, and then.
B. J. "A" 2
June 8th 2011
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