In the early hours
of the dark morning
while my body lays in sleep.
My soul lifts up
and drifts away
for me and you to meet.
Hand in Hand.
Floating hihg, nothing else exists,
our souls are one
and hearts are joined
as we travel through the mist.
Soon the sun comes up
and the light creeps in
and your hand slips from mine.
My soul returns
my body wakes
and my heart begins to die.
If I don't survive and night fall comes
and we can't meet again,
my soul will roam
and search the next life
with hope to fing you then.
[From: M to me]
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Comments about this poem (marazaan by scarlette Phoenix )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(January 30, 1935 – September 14, 1984)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(16 April 1918 – 27 February 2002)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
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