Beside The Stone

Beside the stone

         I sat still, alone beside a stone, waiting. Sitting upon the green carpet of earth. I waited. Alone under the changing sky, still beside the stone where I sat at the beginning of dusk, I sat waiting. I alone, before the forest clearing, sat alone waiting while the sky went through her many moods. I was waiting still. Alone in my misery beside our lover’s stone, watching, waiting. Alone and miserable, I was still waiting for a sign of you.
How long must I wait, I wondered. I wondered long and fiery, as the flaming sun set to slumber disappearing from my view. Hot did my heart beat against its cage. And Night grew quiet and Sky slipped into her evening gown of midnight blue. And so did my thoughts grow weary to wonder of you. I wondered, wondered, wringing my trembling hands. What had become... I grew cold waiting, as did Night, while I still alone  sat wondering of you.
My Patience began to wane, while the moon waxed bright and full. But dared I not abandon my lonely vigil. But time began to smother all my hope; it fed my fear with its endlessness. And still you came not near. In effort of easing my pain, I counted the sea of burning embers in her dress of midnight blue. But taunted was I, with thoughts of you. So I stood myself firm, to seek a path that would lead me too.
I walked the dusty road down the ribbon of moonlight blue. The cold wind seeking me through my linen and lace. The image of your loving face calling me on. I wandered weary. I wandered long, yet nothing but nature’s song could I hear. Nothing but her flora and fauna did I see. Then a sound to shatter the moonlight. My heart echoed its cry. I ran along the ribbon of moonlight, the wind urging my flight. My heart let out a sigh. My hope broke in two.
         There you lay, like a dirty rag. Though I saw no face, how my heart knew. My heavy broken heart lay beside you. With sweat and blood, the red men stood round. The shattered moonlight was their distant echoed sound. I saw your death carried on every arm. Black and cold, its laugh still ringing in my soul. Its smoke rising from below the open mouth. But mine was dry and opened, but there came no sound. Just a sigh stolen by the howling wind, who felt my pain, though I could not feel hers.