by Chris Gustafson
No one hears me in a dream.
Even during tragedy; and
Nowhere near reality,
I can hear your plea.
Herein take my hand away
So that I may do no harm,
Not to others but to me; for
Never would I dare harm thee.
Take my hand away.
Let me rest here, let me die.
Here in silence I do lie.
Not a soul can hear my cry; while
Here, bereft, I slowly die,
While I wait for you.