Awaiting a distorted dream  — a Free Verse


I look up to the boundless, blue blanket above me,

knowing that somewhere you’re looking at the same vault.

The wind that brushes past the limpid expanse politely whispers your name, but I cry out for it.

Oh, please come home.


I look up to the horizon, gleaning for light among the glassy space where the earth kisses the sky.

Its never-ending brilliance begs for me to hope.

Across the line, a ship treads along the sapphire blur, but I suppose it’s merely a taunting chimera.

Oh, please come home.


I look below to my feet, indifferent to the frigid collision of waves.

With each crash, the brutal bleak and bitter thoughts resurface.

I am reminded that any remnant of your brilliance dismally drowned, but I still cannot let you go.

Oh, please come home.


Doused, I know your breath is finite.

However, I am not brave enough to descend beneath the brackish water.

Thus, I remain.

I remain by the shore, awaiting a distorted dream.