Yes, a void is where a heart once rested. In the here and now long, dark shadows cast an eerie glow, their half-light is like the residuel after-light of the forgotten soul. I woke in the morning as I always do, went to the cimetary in longing for more than a half-life--more than what remains. You were my shadow when I felt very alone; warm and safe; a soft resting space to land when I had enough of the world's madness. The silent winds of change sweep away our soft spaces, what remains are the leaves of change:  my heart  arrested by memories like ghosts.

My life is overflowing with more goodbye's than hello's, and who can tell me why this is so? We’re spellbound to madness as we try to ease the emptiness of another half-life: Bound to our gender, our rituals and customs. If I were beautiful and feminine, would you fill my void please, we echo through every hidden motive which carves out our lives. Can we be enchanted with the possibility of never being alone? Falling ... falling somewhere soft; soft words; soft caress upon a scar weary souls. Yet, we're all born alone, all die alone. Yes, a void is where a heart once rested. I miss your caress as soft as feathers, a safe landing space as we soar along the winds of love. In the here & now dark, long shadows cast a silent prayer over this growing chasm where my heart once rested, yet now remains only a silent void. 
 
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