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Alas, My Love, how Empty is

This bed without you.

How I strain to hear the

Soft and subtle rhythm of

Your Sweetest breath.

How I long to Feel the

Gentle Warmth of Your arms

Embracing me.

How I yearn to lean close,

A soft and tender Kiss to bestow.

Alas, My Love, this bed lies empty,

You are not here, not yet,

And in reverence of its Lonely state

I do shun its comfort

To lie in distracted vigilance

Upon the floor






Beautiful Original Artwork by:  Moonchild-Ljilja