… stones were everywhere …

I dreamed we climbed a hill
Beside a dark and ancient sea;
The sky was blue, and
Stones were everywhere —

And you were still alive
The way you were back in the days
When joy was just like breathing,
Just like air

It’s sad how many hills
I have to climb to see your face,
How many rocks and stones
Stand in the way

And how I wish I had the key
To make all of it real,
For though dreams come,
They never, ever


Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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