Come When They May
There are these tears, they build,
a sort of wall of a waiting storm,
I like to imagine a sweeter guild
of love than ever might we form.
I wander toward a make believe
palace on the top of this hill,
it is here I would wish for reprieve
from the scream inside so shrill.
The mounting crags of spindled rock,
would slip me into sweet oblivion,
if in a moment I would look to block
the piercing light I rest my eyes upon.
Oh to find the shadows of my common
world, whereby, the normalcy of why,
would only bury the familiar horizon,
when only together we might forever cry.
I have found my way again in the blue,
A moody appreciation always loving you.