Memories Of Thy And Thee Poem by Khaldun Atum

In the shadows of dawn,
I held my breath;
Awaiting the arrival
Of my impending death.

Oh— why hath thou cursed me?
But cry thy name in vain, shall I?
NO— for not is the way I remember thee.
And shall thy spirit never fly?
Or should destiny allow me to move on,
But I, a flower, shall wither and die.
For sakeness in it, all and all, one way or another, by and by,
Shall I never say good-bye
Before thy love stars to fall?

But's by breath's away, I sway,
Forever standing, gaping, waiting,
A wind's breath in thy ear,
Whispering, 'Thy am here.'

Oh pity, shout I, into the darkness rising,
Thall shalt not behold, thy heart restarting,
That burning in me regaining and sharpening,
But shall I never hear you, rejoicing?
You in the wind, do I hear you voicing?
Shall it be your love, I believe to be importing,
Instead of a love, thy feel a haunting,
Replace, shall you, to hear you, a desperate longing,
How I beg to hear your voice, I cry, shouting,
A combination furying and frightening, blinding and sighting,
The darkest shore awaits thee, by the temples of Hell burning,
And thy coldness shall extinguish, the fire within me churning,
To what shall I say, be it now further into rejoining?
Pleading to say, stay with me, until times of regailling.