Without your voice.

This house, for the past days
It seems empty, without your voice
Ringing loud and clear and now
Loneliness is no more a choice.

The rooms seem large
Without your presence, pervading
Every nook and cranny, every staircase
Even when I sit by the doors, waiting

I  lost count
After the first few days
it seems insignificant, to wonder
If you would return to the same space

You flew too fast, flew to high
Up into the treacherous sky
The gods found you then and refused to give
You back, to let you live

And now I sit by the windows
My eyes peering at the bloated moon
They are red but dry from the exhausted tears
And lips cracked from praying that I leave soon

Leave and cross the same sky
And to the land where you now live
Back to hearing that melodious voice
Oh, to hear again, what I wouldn't give

Poets note: I'm fine, I'm not depressed or anything.Felt a bit...dreamy? and melancholy while I wrote this.

Remember when I told you in this post about a fungi and an algae that took a lichen to each other?
Well, there's some bad news, their marriage is on the rocks.