The Moors of the Lost

The mist hovers above the moors
Reaching out like ancient skeletal fingers
Gasping for something to hold onto

A howl pierces the night
A memory of a Sherlock Holmes story
A shiver runs through scared
A tiny fear...,                        takes hold

Searching thru the night for a light
A light to guide you home
A touch to make you warm...
                                            ...arms to hold you close

The rain came crashing down...
the wind...,                          lets out a howl

Running, finding shelter from the storm
arms wrapped round...

                        ….rubbing to keep warm

A fire started, a heat that seems a forever to start
the flame flickers to stay from the blowing wind
Hunger sets in, a hope the heat will bring
warmth to find sleep, to shrug off the night, the storm

A memory of a long ago time
When the world was not so cold
The darkness wraps around like a blanket
The black traps your soul...,                         your spark

She awaits by the lighted shore
Thru the black of the night
Scrambling, stumbling to find the path...
                                    ...that will lead you to her arms

How many lost lonely nights
as the mist blankets this heart
The cold, the damp feeling in your bones
as you search to find a comfort...

                              In a sleepless sleep

Tomorrow or a tomorrow that has come
The present the past blend into one
A flicker of hope in an endless abyss
There shines a light to lead you home
Written by Stanhoven
Author's Note
There is always a light at the end of the tunnel and she is waiting to hold you in her arms
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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