By = Tempest Alexandria Arts
Last night, as I lay sleeping,
A dream came over me.
I, a man, dead,
From Heaven watched my wife,
As she lay dying.
Nothing I could do to help.
In one last feat of strength,
She stood, walked out into a massive field of grass,
In the dark of night, just the faintest glow from the moon,
As a simple yet haunting violin tune played,
She went for one last midnight stroll.
Across the vast and grassy ocean,
Up a hill grown steeper and steeper,
Climbing with unusual strength,
Grabbing roots and stones and weeds to pull herself up,
And came at last to a red wooden fence.
She climbed the fence, and looked beyond.
Her eyes fell upon the mansion on the hilltop,
Wonder in her eyes. Longing. Pain.
As though she'd seen Heaven itself.
Her goal achieved at last, she clutched her heart with grass-stained hands,
And fell backwards into the grass, to her death.
And as the mournful violin played,
Her eyes up towards the sky,
It felt like none of this would have happened,
Like both of us would be alive and well,
If the last house she saw had been ours.
I even remember the tune that the violin was playing, and recorded it on my phone.
This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1288612.html
You can comment either here or there.