In the stillness of the dark
When all the senses rise to
shine
And every nuance of a clear
Subconscious mind is kindled
new,
Every whisper becomes thunder
Echoing from bedroom walls
Of darkened canyons cut by
glaciers
A hundred million years ago.
No one answers when I call;
Not a soul for miles around;
Just the shadow of the raven
Gliding across canyon floor.
I search for you to hear my
whispers,
Long to find your gentle
voice,
Need to feel your heather
hair
Brush gently on my waiting
skin.
But senses fail me... no
response...
Nighttime becomes cold and
stark, and
No one's there to quench this
thirst
Or answer whispers in the
dark.
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