The Power of Dreams

The flame wavers As your shadow races; Across my wall. I turn wanting you to be there. Your eyes glazed, You’re skin – cold to touch. A living statue Chiseled out over 200 hundred years ago. Watching you I see your ebony tipped wings; Flying over the inky night life Stalking your prey - Through your eyes, I can see your kill, As it walks across your path. Your pointed teeth all aglow - Against your translucent skin. I see you now, Covered in the rich source of life. Not a drop spilt – not a drop wasted. You’re once pale skin; Now alive with colour. The colour of your slay. Your voice surrounds me, Haunting – covering me Like a drug, you engulf me. Uppers for your hunts, and Downers for your lost days. Now perched across from me It is you who are now watching me. A blood tear falls from your albino iris. Catching it in such delicate hands You kiss my forehead and leave me. Sunlight is drawing near as the night fades away. Waking I shake my dream away, Yet I can still feel you with me, Your warm touch - your life like lips upon my brow. Turning over I try to break free of this dream. But there it is staring back at me; A small ruby teardrop. Smiling I wait for the moon the chase the sun away. For you to come flying back to me. I will always be waiting for you in the moonlight. Written September 10th, 2001 © on Sep 10 2001 01:02 AM PST, Rebecca   0 • 10