WHEN WE MEET

Friend of my past days,

you are in another world,

how much you are missed here.

With whom can I share,

anything?

There is no harmony,

anywhere around.

Where to go,

running, running, running,

seeking,

dead tired I am,

as dreams engulf my sleep,

and that's when we meet...

Can't this sleep be eternal?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Composed on March 29, 2002.

View emmenay's Full Portfolio