Robert Fischaleck

whispering nights

 
To your great stormy nights
i set my sails and trust,
for  all these flat and muddy waters
have no grace and ponder.
There might be harbour for the winters cold
and one or two exhausted,
to clean from pain and dust,
but as my heart will cry out soon, i know
it does not feel content with walls nor boundage
it does not even like the ones of lust.

To Your great stormy whispering nights
i turn my blinded sight, i have to feel,
Your sweet aroma cleans my sence from dust.
I see some beauty i have never touched before.
I had to leave behind the good old trodden gates,
i had to find my trust.
 
 

Within my darkest dream of You
I feel the ponder of a call
The echoe of a voice
i wouldn't think to be so near
a love so dear, like no one else before
But many times before ive walked that room,
and once again i do,
The dream of love is always there
and if the waters at the shore could speak,
the waves have sung Your song and disappeared
and every time they fade away
they promise soon we' ll roar again
and once again they do,
the silence in between is like a letter,
saying: I am missing You.
 

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Robert Fischaleck.
Published on e-Stories.org on 05/14/2007.

 

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