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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1910558
When I woke that night... My eyes would never see the same
Cool air blanket
warmed me so little.

I woke up. There she was
Every night she is just. There.

Sitting cross legged. Or hovering
Bone white skin. Eyes of unused life
still twinkles in the glittering pools of green
Only I have the honour of this strange God-given sight.
Black flowing dress flutters around the blue wall sky. Forever
no more. uncle made sure of that, i’m sure dust falls from the wound
We talk, about life, death, God, Walkers, nothing too strange, seen peter ?
Yep, nice man she said. Can I stay? Here? With you, she muttered. What can I
Say…
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