© Erik Brickman 2005

Longing Land

I walk among rock and ruin.

Unsure to what I am doing.

Astray, lost in Longing Land.

There was a time, a hand to hold

Longing eyes stood with me, bold.

Hope is the last to abandon, in Longing Land.

Blind am I to your forgetfulness of me.

At the frozen river, that of love ran so free.

I slip on the ice of memories, in Longing Land.

For truly, as far as I am now from your heart.

Even you could not believe, to become apart.

That I would fall this far, in Longing Land.

In your hands I wish to bow my head and sleep.

Not here, where snow builds all too deep.

A stranger am I, in Longing Land.

Poetry by Erik Brickman
Read 979 times
Written on 2005-09-26 at 14:34

Tags Sadness 

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Commentally Ill
a stranger you may be but i am right at home. longing land, a bitter chorus of a landscape dark and ugly, full of bottomless want. home. do come in, would you like a drink?