Not too far away

I am the darkness,
Midst the bustling vespers,
I cry for you,
Frustrated,
I am the whispers,
The gossamer thread,
The pilferer of special things,
The unfathomable noise,
The low key voice that sings.

​
Bereft ​​​​of vessel,
In solitude I wander,
The undeniable sensation,
The what if?
The who's there?
The rare manifestation.
I am the memory,
The family of old,
I long for you to hear me and bring me in from the cold.
​​