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Tragic's Wake
Break The Silence
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She dances on the edge of sight. Moving like silken shadows across the distant horizon. Moving with the grace of desire she comes and goes. A moments viewing despairs his heart for always she lingers out of reach. Each step the heart beat of his soul. The scent of her becomes a taste of wanted flesh in his mind. His hands need her body to give purpose to their touch. His eyes long to dance across her curves, and soak in the radiant light that reflects from her skin. Her hair flows like the waters of life, giving purpose to his every moment.
But she isn’t real. A fantasy stole his heart. It has built up in him, stealing the essence of the real. For all seem a pale reflection of his true desire. The one who isn’t must be. If not then why does she lay herself across his mind so? He needs, he pleads, he bleeds for the belief in one he has never seen outside of heated dreams that come and go across the long stretch of nights. Either he must obtain or release. He cannot let this build up inside anymore. The want, the need, it all is too much for this one to handle.
But there must be hope. Hope that the silken shadow of a thought. The true desire of this one must come to pass. Else why has she stalked his dreams, his hopes, his wants for so long? Why not grant him peace and leave him be?
