I dreamt of storms and driving rain,
Of branches rapping ‘gainst the pane.
Booming thunder shook the room,
Rousing me from Morpheus’ tomb.
The full moon shone though glass unsound,
Casting shadows all around.
It shed its light upon my sheet,
My nerves I could no longer cheat.
And then it threw its light on me,
Allowing me to finally see.
My heart beat fast, my mouth was dry,
At what was there before my eye.
My daughter stood before my bed,
At first, I thought it in my head.
For she had died that very day,
A fever took her life away.
She was my joy, my heart, my life,
Her death sliced through me like a knife.
These halls, once filled with hope and glee,
They now embodied misery.
The mirrors, once reflecting sun,
Were now all covered, grief begun.
I walked those halls upon that day,
To try to chase my pain away.
But all I found there in the gloom,
My daughter’s scent in every room.
Her whispered secrets everywhere,
Her presence borne upon the air.
She stares at me, there is no blame,
For, now, our paths are both the same.
She takes my hand, leads me away,
The fever took me too, that day.
Copyright Kelly Evans