Foreboding

By Davey Moore

What an aching form -
Of disenchantment in which I exist,
No smile to move me through the day,
Only the dark shadow of loss, which,
Lay me in cold fields,
Deep in the heart of memories,
Clinging to hope shrouded in abandonment,
Longing for the light that once shone on me.
I shun the angry words -
As I grasp with all might,
To make a difference, which could cause you,
To come and take down this night.
Which conquers my soul,
Placing me in a wash of submitting tears,
As I move through so many yesterdays,
When we truly loved dear.
My heart has worn my soul away,
Lost to the ever-widening expanse,
Which so rips the ties that held our lives,
In love and friendship of sweetest circumstance.
If only I could have the chance to prove,
My will to make all things right,
But, you never see me,
so how can I show you me in a new light?
But should you? Would you?
My aching heart yearns for you so much,
As disillusioning reality constantly conveys how,
You seemed to have fallen so far away love.
©Davey Moore 2003 FindersRkeepers Publishing