Longing

The Sea's desire to roar its might
The Wind's rush for breezy flight
The Nightblooms whose shy buds open
Only in the serenity of hidden night

There is one that wants to say
But a few words, even if trite
There is someone who wants to see
The usual yet satisfying sight

A desire to listen to the Sound
That makes my darkness bright
A need to posses the One
Who holds my soul as her right

With every passing day, I become
Less of me and more of her
I imagine her dreams,
Dream her imagination
In the loneliness of bleary nights