Dreams of dead enemies, debts undone,
floods unwashed. Of stormless clouds
and peakless heights, to fly not climb,
soar without sweat: a misty existence
with nothing sharp or hot or bloody.
Of ravines leveled, reefless seas, sands
without scorch. Fantasy of ether purity.
A lonely being wrapped in thought,
cocooned in darkness: contained chasm.
No love, no pain.
You weren't there.

CC 2007 Sharon Mollerus