Goodbye...

I watched through the stained glass windows of my bedroom as it flickered from white to red. I lay praying one of them would brighten, that one would park. That one might proclaim that you'd turned back. Come to try 'one last time'. Again. That you might save us in sake of your pride. That you might have allowed me mine. But the light would only torment, shimmering a certainty I couldn't admit. That you're not, this time, returning. That to the clockwork we'd rejoin, the potent world between us left now to diffuse in mere reminiscence. That you will not, this time, be back. The feeble hope I painted on to every passing light a sad reflection of the glow now destined to fade. Of the darkness which would pervade. Of the kindled promise left to cinder, of the coveted desires all but smoke. You would not, this time, return. I lay dreaming that we knew what was needed. That the multitudes might refract into something we could grasp. Something worth coming back for. Something that might, this time, make you return. But the lights would just pass. Just flicker from white to red. From coming to going. Without, this time, stopping to return.