Marcy

I listen to the falling rain,
And it seems it contains a voice,
A voice I heard not long ago,
That now leaves me with no choice,
My dreams become a revolving door,
But it never seems to stop spinning,
A feeling that I’ve grown used to,
Since the ending of the beginning.
 
 
This spinning door has only an entrance,
A door closed long ago,
As all these dreams seem to spin around,
With no destination to show,
The heart holds love deep inside,
Yet it’s reserved for only one,
As dreams fill up the darkness,
That holds no place left to run.
 
 
As my dreams revolve in circles,
They all spin back to you,
My arms reach out to push the door,
But the exit is somehow glued,
The rain taps out a tempo,
As these dreams keep spinning around,
And in the music of the rain,
Only one voice is found.
 
 
The dreams become my sanctuary,
But is it insanity to not let go,
And no matter how hard the mind protests,
The sound of her voice just grows,
Would it be labeled some sort of obsession,
Or a hallucination that the heart hears,
Yet at that very moment,
In my dreams I feel her tears.
 
 
Sometimes I wish I’d escape this door,
If only to feel the rain,
But love is something I know I have,
So giving up contains no gain,
Though the door may just keep spinning,
And the rain keeps falling down,
If I close my eyes late at night,
Her voice in my dreams is found.
 
 
I hear her voice each night in dreams,
I hear her when others speak,
Is it just grasping at a straw,
Or a heart left cold and weak,
I’m now struck with the realization,
That each day I love her more,
And never will there be an exit,
Inside this revolving door.

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