ASIN: B07CGL3YQ3
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services LLC
Pages: 94
This dream is cold, and I am afraid of the dark.Youth's summer was gone and I viewedThe yearning soul of solitude.The frozen lake; the stars and flowersLittle white flowers that all were oursIn fantasy only—when I was young And spoke sweet the nectar's tongue.We never speak. Did we speak before?I dream, I dream of you now the moreThat buried are years of absenceFrom one I prayed to be my prince.On the bosom of the dream, I rest—And death becomes a welcome guest.Gladly entombed in my imaginingWhere so still, my heart is spring—In the winter you await withinIn memories that have never been.The twisted seraph upon the wave,The swan and song upon the grave—From the depths, your kiss in my headAs if from the flowers of the dead.Which is buried, which has turned away?Only silence, perhaps, can say...
