Calls the Midnight Hour

An amalgam of thoughts runs through my head.
Fearful symmetry - the kind I understood it to be - questions my mind refuses to process. I am stunned by the depth of your words, though I should not be. They are too truthful to say out loud.

They said that the world is a vampire -
I gave my soul to be poured forth for it, and taking all,
I found myself with love to spare but none to give.

I know not when these sacred spires become walls of glass. Perhaps I cannot look into the mirror after all. Enclosed, you may say by choice, yet not without the capacity to ache for you. Wavering, Wandering,
Lost to the query of how to become whole if it is indeed the distance that turns you away.

Again, I stand at fault, desperately seeking a cure for that which cannot be.

We have been simple pilgrims. Palmers forging the way between two worlds and alien to both.
I long for home. My soul is with you.
Entangled webs like poisoned ivy; fettered verdant chains around my heart... not that I don't appreciate the scenery.

You asked what I want. Clouds of thoughts, hurricane dreams. ...
I wait to see, and long to love you.
A voice echoes through the air, the sound of silence that shakes the frost from the firs. The space between the ice and snowdrops; a thin layer that only leaves me questioning the duplicity of this created sphere.

And where then, do I stand? A traitor to my people either way, and lost to see the jagged edge of love. I hold my breath; await the declaration of the color of the dawn. For I am born of two worlds, and not apart from each.

If you die, I die with you.