Lonely hours of Yearning

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For i saw thee in a painting that never spoke; In a poem that was never voiced; In a thought that never materialized; In a picture that never moved; But i saw thee in the quiet face; In the unspoken words; In the dark and white mind; In an imagined frenzy... I move and keep on moving in the abominable path- I sometimes stop and wait for the suffering wrath. Nothing ceases to amaze me though; For each sight offers me with its source of bewilderment For each passing light shoots up somewhere high above. I see a figure dancing,asking me to believe in its movements Movements imitating and the supernatural pointing to the vast world and claiming it as its own. And crying to move forward Not to achieve the desired- But to function for what one is send for I blink for i don't want myself to get caught in the moment. The distance between me and my death is my caught up soul- Yearning to get free but remembering it can't. I sense the inevitable feeling,i sense it all And i cry-O Love!O Love!take me home.

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