The Duality of Loss and Survival

The night was long and her sleep was deep,

But morning comes too soon,

She met you within the boundaries of her dream,

To talk and reminisce under the full moon.

**

It’s where you live in her crazy days,

And why she is desperate to merge with the night,

Her bliss is awakened in the darkest of hours,

And she longs to hang on tight.

**

As the sun rises, the tears begin to flow,

The loss hits home and the scars wear deep,

Her eyes see the world in which she haunts,

As she struggles to sink back to sleep.

**

Her heart is bruised and bathed in pain,

Her chest tight with regret,

Tortured by the past of ups and downs,

Of times that hostage her in threat.

**

The roar in her ears as the shock wears thin,

The physical hit of loss that clouds her sight,

But you’d not wish her to tarry within its depths,

So she rises to stand tall, turning to face the light.

**

She’s still gladdened to be amongst the living,

Life will tilt back to centre stage,

Her smile will return, in the distant future,

But she’ll drag your memories with her into old age.

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Originally published on Medium