The Wraith

It was beneath the apple tree,
where I first saw him.
When the westward travel
of the sun pulled
the wraith from
the shadow of the tree.
He stood...
Little more than a silouette
on the sparkling white snow.

His shoulders bowed
from a load that was far too heavy
and violet eyes ashine
with tears eternally unshed.
Aye.
From the first I knew him.

His tale is one frequently told
yet seldom truly heard.
And so,
be silent my friend
so that your soul may listen.

They were in the summer of their lives
when death stole her from him.
He grieved in gentle silence
for the rest of his days.
Waiting.
Believing that death
would reunite them.
If only he was patient.
And hurt none.
He would have eternity with her.

Finally,
finally.
Deep with in the winter of his life,
Deep within the night...
Deaths cold fingers touched his chest.
Stilling the heart within the body.
And Death walked away then,
into the night alone and silent.

The man cried after him,
a pitious wail...
And he called Her name.
He heard no reply.
So lost has he wandered,
searching worldy fields
for her embrace.

And he cries,
"Why am I abandoned!"
"I did stay through my life though
I longed to rush to join her!"
"None have I harmed!"
"My only yearning to see the face
of my beloved in the Goddess' light..."

To this day does he wander,
for he refuses to see.
A sin greater even than taking a life..
Greater than taking ones own perhaps.
Is the failure to live
the life we are given.

Copyright: February 1999 by Weslin
NOT to be used without her permission,
Write to WesandRogue@netscape.net
for her permission.

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