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You were like the marks that trail along the road
the breaking of the wind
All of you shown
When me and you would spin

We came home, and we came out again
Me the letter, delivered to a friend
You carried me all the way
Just so we can see the end

You are like the raven without it’s wings
Yet you were fast like the thunder
Black as shadow, but bright when the angel sings

You move on like a phantom memory
Like a person who’s no longer there
Reality makes you real
But the person who knows you is somewhere

And he is waiting for you.

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About the author:

Christopher Connor Regan

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My name's Chris, I love gaming, film, books, writing, and music. For me, they all intertwine, so I always have a connection to them. I came here to hopefully see if I can find my place in writing or not, so I'm wishing myself luck. Other than that, I'm just trying to solve my puzzle.

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Likened to an upheaval, the drawing lifted it's head as it's fingers
splayed out on the page, warning and confrontation flexed in
every curve. The summoning power of the author