04-03-98
in my darkest hours thou art there
comforting, holding, loving
thou seekest not to harm me, but rather,
to make me see that life is not a hard as it might be
dost thou realize the love I hold for thee ?
would it surprise thee to know of my thoughts ?
my dreams ? my desires ?
in the deepest of the night doth thou comfort me
thy only thought to chase away the nightmares which constantly plague me
in the brightest of days thou art with me still,
sharing that which we both love, together
ahh, but here is the crux of the matter
thou dost not exist, save in mine own mind
thou art not true flesh and blood, bone and tissue
thou art a figment of my wishful thinking,
a paragon of virtue such as thee doth not truly live,
save in the wishes and dreams of the lonely and forlorn
oh, would that thou were real,
to save me from mine own world
to rescue the heart on the edge of the cliff
to hold a hand, to steady the pulse that demands a leap from that most dangerous precipice
where art thou ? and why dost thou not answer ?
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