An Ode To The Emptiness

There was no sign of her. It seemed like time had stopped. Everything had frozen. The passage of each moment felt like little specs of water trickling from icy stalactites, only colder. Every little thing she did would always make me smile. Her fingers moving through her hair, her head rolling back gently as the curls moved across her forehead while she held her hand on her mouth to stifle a giggle. It'd always been perfect. I'd watch her through my window from my cell, my finger tips moving gently across the cold stone blocks like a dying man craving for that last ray of the sun on his face.

The days would roll by without a sound from me as I gazed with amazement at the beauty. It was my only wish before my passage to tell her how beautiful she was and how my tired eyes would feel a sense of relief at her very appearance. Her face has the calmness of the ocean, her eyes have the ability to heal all hurting. Her smile is like a gentle perfume wafting through the woods, her eyes are a reflection of her pure heart. To a man waiting for his end, she is like that one last caress that puts him gently to sleep. Her presence leaves an aura of unconditional joy in my lonely heart.

All that remains is this emptiness, an echo of my state...