Wasteland Of You and Me

It is I who have dreamt too long,
through the once quiet forest.
But the sound of the weeping mothers
from centuries past do not deter me anymore.
As they get louder waking up the trees, looking for ways to wish their problems away.

Here I am wandering, wondering...
Who am I if I stop chasing you?
Who will I become if I don't get to see your face or remember your name?

I think of only love,
derailed and distracted from the dangers of daydreaming in Her dark and cold world.

And then the old and ancient woman enters
with the shadows of the day.
I shudder as the moans and cries suddenly stop.
All her relatives come to her, whispering.
Like falling leaves returning back to their tree,
the pallbearers of her dark and heavy gloom envelops the land, holding her up from the ground in a throne of ghastly arms and shaking hands.

Struggling through the centuries to keep their ancient mother and her blue eyed daughter with sleek dark hair and silver wings,
above the now unearthly wasteland
that begins and ends in perpetual motion
of you and me.

My sleeping eyes,
are tired of the same circular dreams.
She floats toward me as I begin to run, her ancient hands outstretched towards the hard wood floors of my once peaceful bedroom.

She also float towards me, her blue eyes hidden by her hair, muted by the darkness she now calls her home, wandering and wondering...

If my heart is tired of running and chasing
the same love story in
a wasteland of hearts and spades?