You're like gossamer,
Treading through my fingers,
Slipping inch by inch,
Till I feel nothing but the air.
A puzzle, likening yet distant,
Novel yet achingly familiar;
Crawling your way into the heart,
Only to dissipate in a painful sizzle
I grasp the cold sheets,
Breathing in your darkening scent;
Writing the memories away,
Away, in a manger to hell.
Say goodbye to the churchyard,
Where our paths had crossed;
Nights rich and full of promises,
Are but dreams painted by Lucifer's hands.
Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar