Through the eyepiece

To be able to stand by your side again is all I beg of God. To be able to stare into those eyes.. That held the very essence of a soul.. To have it stripped away and taken along with its vessel to a different place. Everyday, the victim still stares out into nothingness, but in towards what was defined to be a voice, piercing through the silence sweeping aside the hollowness created by vacuum, towards the confirmation that speaks, “Yes, I’ll stand by you”. You wish it was reality once more, to have all of the emptiness surrounding your heart to be pushed heavenwards and out of mind. To have what your heart reaps for in front of you. Not to torment but to comfort once again. To fall asleep with a hushed whisper that blows, into your ear like a breeze sweeping you off your feet physically, and metaphorically. To have it echo from within your ear all the way down to your heart, and finally settle down as it steadily butters down, guaranteeing safety so your eyelids now reassured flutters down, allowing your soul to extend its reach going out of its way to a destination already planned, to meet another halfway. At last, a sense of nostalgia sweeps over you as you memorize every sight, every sound, every feeling before it ends.