Wandering

Twisting and turning upon the moors,
Mist drags on my ankles, I can hardly dance.
Scanning the murky horizon,
Looking for a vague figure,
A brooding face.

If I wave my hands in the air,
the light trails off my fingertips.

If I fling my head around wildly,
you will see my eyes burning holes in your soul.

The sun sets,
Shadows of the craggy hills: so like your face.
A hear a whisper carried on the wind,
My name, so soft and pleading...

Screams of pain echoed from an impossible distant,
I'll come, I'll rush,
just to be by your side.
You were cruel and I was witty,
I went but I'll return.

My eyes are outlined with hollows,
Wide, so wide.
Wailing incoherent words,
filling the silence with emotion.

Smashing the tension with high notes,
as I leap back to where you need me to be.

Twisting and turning upon the moors...