Star?

Half-spirit,
Sister, mine. Where are you?
I await amid impatience.
I have erred to find you.
My heart lies sore upon my breast.
Your face haunts me.
I believe I have earned you,
But you've yet to show yourself.
Why do hide, keep yourself from me?
I hunger, I ache.

© 2000 The Crisses. All rights reserved.

© Criss Ittermann. All Rights Reserved. Website by Eclectic Tech, LLC.