I miss you.
I miss the good old days, the slumbering air.
I miss the autumn gardens, the golden flare.
I miss the torquoise fog, the burgundy dusk.
Those grand old feasts, a truthful mask.
I miss you.
When his ghostly waves haunt, my memories afloat.
Still your scent fondles, from my old winter coat.
Helplessly I dream of you in these frosty nights.
Morning puddles dance the blues in my eyes.
I miss you.
I miss that boy once naïve and hopeful.
I miss those unholy phases most artful.
I miss your voice and your silent strides,
your lovely dresses and your untainted eyes.
I miss you.
By the fire I pen this yearningly song.
My heart in angst with a petrified tongue.
The dread of your absence forbade my rest.
Hallucinations of my velvet crest.
Undraped mortality I confess to you.
Forgive me, my heart, for my childish wrongs.
For you I long.
