It’s morning,
And a heavy veil of darkness whips through South East
Lies tattered at my feet
Ghosts of unspoken emotions, and unsung songs
Hobble Emaciated through the passage of my soul,
Crying to be touched,
to be renewed with the fervor of new life


I would have sung you a love song,
But for fear you were hardened
by your understanding of my love

And in my weakness and in my grief I remained silent,
As you receded into the velvet night

God, how I rummaged the stars in search of your eyes, 
Praying for, yet dreading the morning light
Ah, but morning has come and cinders of unrequited passion
Lie at the hearth of expediency, the wounds of empty dreams
Are salted by tears of longing and need

When will love come again
To rebuke these uncaring, insentitive winds
That mock my vigil at the altar of your heart…

It’s another South East Morning and I Miss YOU