Trembling in the wind of desolation

Your absence is filtering beneath my covers.
My head is full of timeless ancient dreams.
It is quiet and even the walls in my room look asleep.
Only the lost lullaby is drifting slowly above my bed.
Once there was warm silky summer but
Now deep in the dead of the night
The headless bodies are listening.
I look out of the dirty window
Shaped against the harsh world of reality.
The night behind is senseless and
Every shape in it is magical.
I still hope to see the blue enchanted morning
When my heart is born again
But the wind of desolation is too strong.
I feel my courage hiding indifferently
In the shadows of the walls and
Even the sleeping telephone is
The enemy of lost time.
I would fall in bed with you eagerly
But the roads edged with pain aren’t forgotten.
I explore your loving like an innocent child through
The casualty of infinite coordinates.
I feel the sadness of the painted pleasure girls of the night.
In the fragrance of their perfumes
Life is burning slowly into your glowing skin
And the moonlight transforms the room
Into the endless scream of your absence.
I don’t ask questions, you don’t lie and
As I fall asleep under the burning candle
Of unfulfilled promises
I dream of your warm wings…