The Affair

Falling asleep, headed for dreamland skies,
Your footsteps echo in my listless mind,
But they are just shadows; shapeless, undefined,
Lingering like memories behind closed eyes,
Caught, confused, in obligation and lies.

Perhaps some answer we can seek to find,
To save us from these thoughts malign:
Whatever the infection, pray poison dies.
Shelter me from falling sceptic rain,
That falls from spiteful tongues behind fake smiles,
Holding in her teeth your blood in glass phials –
Run! With my hand in yours and save this pain…
We can live in perfect dreamt of skies,
And ignore realities tearful goodbyes.