Till Then

He sits wounded on broken crystals
where his beloved's image reflects;
His placid visage is like frozen lake
on bleak winter morn.

As his wounds gently bleed
he whispers her name~
And the echo soars
on distant northern lights.

As she hears his fading voice
she runs to him~
Unmindful of the arrows 
until she finally finds him 
before  he murmurs, 
"Till then, my love".

01.28.2021

devotionlonginglovefree verse

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