Obscure Hearts.

It is three am, and I wonder where you are, and why I am without you......... Tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock..... Each clock clamorously claims victory ~ Fleeting Victory... The sound of tires on a wet, dark highway is amplified, and I wonder how Many of those travelers comprehend their destination and how many will Arrive Home Safely... Reality thrives not on rainbows. It is winter, and I need to breathe ~ yes~ a scrupulous black and white....... Austere borders...ice and rock...a conscience of the finest caliber................ Forty-seven years and my Act Remains Imperfect; Then, theatre, for me, has always been a spectator sport; although truth Is on my side, I remain brutally beaten... Why am I without you? My pretty white crochet curtains surround the bleak, for your mystery makes Me weary, and why does April taunt me so... You reside in a stone hut, and I am a sleepwalking virgin.