A sorrowful Awakening

Awakening from a dream like reality isn't even worth the effort, a dream of a person, a creature, no, an angel, or maybe a demon. 

But she was, so beautiful.... 

Awakening from a slumber that should have kept me for eternity, reality not giving way to itself at this point. 

Awakening now from the reality that dreams are dreams, and she was never real, her dark jet black hair is not soft as silk, her pale snowy skin is not deceptively warm to the touch, her eyes are not cavernous treasure troves waiting to be explored, awed at, and coveted by all, her body is not a temple to be worshiped at, to be laid down at and sacrificed for her pleasure. 

Awakening from the dream, that I should have liked to die in, 

awakening without her by my side, without her hand in mine, 

without her presence bringing me a peace known only to those who sit at the presence of God, 

without her words uttering tears into my eyes, without her love being laid over me like a blanket,

 without her smile that can burn brighter than any star in this universe. 

Awakening to this reality... 

I go back to sleep. 

To dream. 

To live. 

To remember, 

and as time passes I will only dream more of you.