Gone

Stepped across the threshold
through the door
its closed behind me
for the last time

The latch click is quiet
still louder than my thoughts
its not the sound of coming home
and it echoes even now

Turn around to look back
but even though I’ve just stepped through
the door’s gone
its not there

Gone, its gone
like a half forgotten memory
of a vague but vivid dream

Gone, you’ve gone
and even though I cannot see your face in this light
I can still touch you
and even though the rain has washed away the footsteps
I can still hear you whisper

the sidewalks and the signs
open spaces, crowded places
now empty of the faces
no more plans and no designs

The bricks and the stones,
proven to be transient
illusions of permanence
I walked here only yesterday

Gone, all gone
like a half forgotten memory
of a half remembered dream

Gone, just gone
and even that would be alright if I could just hold on
to fleeting reflections
and even now it seems that I can touch, and you are there
its water on sand

I turn from the doorway
the path indistinct
it seems to go somewhere
pretending to know where
I follow where it seems to go
’cause I can’t stay here
it’ll disappear

Gone, I’m gone
like the half forgotten figment
an imaginary life

Gone, So gone
and even as our vision fades,obscured by this retreating light
dim, fading light
I can still feel the touch of your soul, and the crystal-clear sound
of your whisper

‘Gone’ by team Artisan

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About dwozmak

David Wozmak is a renaissance man. In the renaissance, it was important to be expansive and inclusive in the kinds of skills and abilities you were able to cover. As far as can be told, they had guys in the renaissance that could muck out animal stalls, pile rubble into something vaguely resembling shelter, cook an edible pizza, and of course say the wrong thing around women.
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