By Damien Knight
I seek you out
Like the perfect vision
From dreams I cannot wake.
How my heart is longing,
My soul aching,
My skin in pain.
Yet here I been ever waiting,
‘Tis my wretched fate
And will I be
Like a flower faded?
Alas I hunger
But keep silent.
If I waste
I only myself to blame
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The Shade of Writing 