She's Puzzled By This Incessant Pressure

I wouldn't bother with these questions, if I didn't sense some spiritual connection...

Might I make a revision?

...If I didn't still sense an emotional one?

Maybe the wee morning hours are playing tricks on me.

Hope is becoming a thinner sheet of ice to tread these days.

Even sprawled flat I can feel the cracks forming.

Still, however ignorantly optimistic, I no longer fear what is held within the depths beneath.

Maybe I will make it across after all.

Morningrise

I am awaiting the sunrise
Gazing modestly through the coldest morning
Once it came you lied
Embracing us over autumn's proud treetops

I stand motionless
In a parade of falling rain
Your voice I cannot hear
As I am falling again

Devotion eludes
And in sadness I lumber
In my own ashes I am standing without a soul
She wept and whispered: "I know..."

We walked into the night
Am I to bid you farewell?

Why can't you see that I try
When every tear I shed
Is for you?

For every two letters you type..

Mine are lost.