The Storm blows its weary way
Through my echoed hall ways
Whistling through the half closed doors
Wisps of breeze brush my cheek
Beneath the chill that lingers
With your absence
My watered memories of past times
Grow more distant by the ticking of the clock
Your smile fades from my grasp
Your arms no longer reach my direction
As other pathways cheer you on
And still I wait for August’s moon
For underneath its palest light I still dream,
Your smile will chase away the shadows
Your lips shall fan the dying embers
Left to glow in ebbing shades of red
Your arms will reveal their secrets
Long since held from me
Passions thrall will heal wounds,
Misunderstandings shall mellow with truth
Come quickly Augusts Moon
Wrap us in your silvered beams
For in these aching days of loneliness
Nothing is ever as it seems
