The loss at each awakening, I die

I turn at the sound of a click.
Standing at the door is my love.
Radiating love, is mirrored mine.
My steps falter. Is it you my love?

Yes! So soft a whisper, but I heard.
Rooted; I don’t take the next step.
Something is off but what?
I get distracted by the room.

The light behind you is bright.
Yet inside the room there’re shadows.
You step inside, the fog swirls.
Shrouded, you fade away.

No! I scream. Awake whimpering.
A dream; yet a torment.
Each dream, my love I see.
Never have I held you. Why?

Your face haunts my days.
In dreams I see you.
Yet never have we touched.
The loss at each awakening, I die.

By C.E. Pereira


Author: cepcarol

I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique. Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems. I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination. To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome. Sincerely, C.E. Pereira

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