I sit in solitude,
pen in hand.
The thumping heart beat of that old wooden clock
placed upon the walls white as freshly fallen snowflakes
on a winter's morn
Reminds me that Time still floats along.
The empty page beneath my gaze
longs for life.
It screams in desperation for the caress of my hand.
But its pleas fall upon deaf ears
As I peer out into the world of silence.
Where the the full moon paints the treetops
and the flowing river with its radiant light.
And where the stars cascade beyond the reach of my eyes.
Suddenly the silence is broken
By the howl of the wind.
And the leaves of the trees glisten majesticlly
As they are lifted through the air.
How I envied them.
I envy their freedom.
But I knew
That though they were free
Their beauty would fade away
And their life would come to and end.
Even if it was for that short moment
I want to be swept away by the wind
And let my eyes feast upon a world unknown.
Until it ceases to move
And I settle among the Roses
Until I take my final breath of life.
My page ignored,
I left the world of man
And into the world of the moonlit night.
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