lyrwriter

Mirroring sunlight in flashes and winks,

Yet ever in motion, the waves roll to shore.

Do I know where we are? Is this as it appears

As we stroll between dunes which the slicing winds score?

Down the beaches we walk until, turning to me,

Smiling yet grave, you halt. "Here, I remain."

"Don't say that," I beg you. "You must come along."

Each throb in my throat is a sharp, cutting pain.

As you sink to the ground, eyelids fluttering closed,

The anguish leaps up in me, searing like flak.

How relieved as I wake in my warm, tangled bed;

So afraid that one day, waking won't bring you back.

The End

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