My eyes begged you,
Forgive me,
I know not with whom I speak,
you are but a mirage to me,
an oasis only existing
in the realm of my twisted mind.

My hands pleaded you,
come and love me,
show me what you have inside
that golden box,
you keep hidden behind
the headboard.

A light faded and
flickered
in the house across the street.
Up on the hill,
branches swayed peacefully
with the wind.
I succumbed
to your darkness.

A path which winds
through desert sands
is no path at all,
but a choice made each moment
with each aching footstep,
the song of a stream
in the distance,
was only a breeze
passing through the air.

The shadow of the man
that had appeared before
was no longer there.