Heart of the Exile

 

I don’t want to mourn

in this place,

because this has always been

a place of joy.

Even the walls

are held up with the whispers

of your voice in my ear

on sunny mornings.

 

Now the halls

are stuck with rows of daggers

and there’s no comfort

under this ceiling.

It’s time to go

on,

to another place,

so I can go on being.

 

If I stay here;

Lord, I know I will

become one with the walls.

For I see your face,

and I hear your voice,

only here,

and nowhere else at all.

 

So, I am moving on,

and I will miss you.

I just can’t do it, here.

One day,

 I’ll come home

and I’ll be with you.

Until then;

adieu,

my Dear.

 

 

 

HG – 2020

2 thoughts on “Heart of the Exile

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