These wastelands lay bare with no sign of life. I’m tormented by the demons that lurk in the shadows created by distant trees, and the glimmering moonlight.
Underneath the oak tree I sat and watched, enraptured by the embers of a campfire that once scintillated in the darkness.
I’m scarred by my own reflections, horrified by the evil hovering over these lands; lands that once redefined beauty.
For the first time in many years, I heard the cryptic words of nature calling to me.
I was lost in a deep sleep, in a surreal land full of infinite possibilities.
It was then I remembered the sound of you your soothing voice. It had, in the not so distant past, serenaded me from the dry, dark skies above during ungodly times of sleep deprivation, and meager love.
I felt my body yield to the lullabies that floated on your sincere lips, as they echoed in the cushioned walls of my ears. You were the ideal of what I had always known to be beauty itself; beauty of the heart and mind.
My dreams were studded with vivid images of us grooming the love we shared, and more than once, we sat in a field of flowering red and white roses, sharing abstract ideas of love and hate.
Somewhere in the middle of the field stood a radiant sunflower and tulip, that glistened as if they had been planted with stardust.
They lived in harmony and sounded like a symphony of love that could have only be written in the eternal realm of time.
Each night, the sunflower bowed its head to kiss the petals of the tulip which flickered in excitement.
When the night finally covered us with its ineffable beauty, we idolized the two flowers, mimicking a gesture so profound that our hearts could not grasp its depth.
You whispered into my soft, sensitive ears sweet words which pampered my heart, and annihilated every doubt and fear ever harbored in the corners of my mind.
I was your sunflower and you were my tulip.