Somedays
you are the early morning mist
drifting slowly, pervading every thought.
You are warm like the butterscotch sun light,
tickling memories with butterfly wings.
Somedays,
you are a thunder cloud,
like an ebony crayon you darken my world.
I cry for what was and what might have been,
wanting at the same time to push away and embrace
that which taunts me,
haunts me...
I am bewildered at your leaving.
I still don't understand,
why Azrael took you by the hand,
and left me behind.
Perhaps it is not mine
to comprehend such things.
I only know that I must wait my turn.
Yet in my heart
you are still quite near,
and sometimes I hear your whisper in my ear,
feel your touch in an errant breeeze.
And I know,
you have not truly left me.
