Sojourn

Above the stars, I wait...
At the door of something bigger,
I lean back, the wind in my hair,
The cold darkness envelops my soul,
Crimson washes over the silver moon,
And I feel my heart beating fast,
Lifting my fingertips one by one,
Slowly relinquishing control of me,
Of life, of death, of my own thoughts,
Putting trust in nothing, no one,
Now my fingertips only feel the air,
My face flush with winter's chill,
I lift my arms to the midnight sky,
Eyes closed, lips open, deep breaths,
Waiting for the warmth of my tears,
But there are none, no proof,
Nothing to negate the emptiness,
Barren soul, not even one tear,
No vaporous cloud from my lips,
Frozen in this precarious place,
Amid crystal fragments, I wait...
Snowflakes shatter the black night,
And I feel the darkness holding me,
Tightly, deeply, safe in it's arms,
Yet the hollow, frigid void inside,
Somewhere deep within I can feel...
Or can I? Who do I trust?
Reality is subjective, truth surreal,
Warmth a myth, cold a fact,
From warmth, what then?
Only to become cold again?
No, I cannot take the step,
But I cannot go back either,
So here my love, I wait...
Feet firm, icy fingers just above,
The frozen stone walls, my friends,
A snowflake lands and melts away,
But crystal lashes still closed firmly,
I cannot know it's warm demise,
For all I know is this... I wait.