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Time Plays Out, Fades      

Waking here in the night
A vision runs across his mind
A vision of her
A vision of her warmth, touch

To feel the sound of her voice
The smile of his heart beating
Longing, an abyss never ending
Missing her
Missing a vision of her eyes, her mouth

Footsteps fade down a cobblestone path
A fading twilight circles to close
Cut the director calls
The set is changed
Waking here in the morn
Waking to start a new day, alone  
Written by Stanhoven
Published
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