Subj: Midnight at Widow's Hill....
Date: 12/31/98 10:56:55 AM Central Standard Time
From: Daphne

Midnight At Widow’s Hill

An aching moon
Crushes the
Raw sea with a symphony
Of delirious love, yet
I walk alone in the
Languid shadows.

You are eternity and
I am bare beneath
Your misty fingers.

Are you real?

I somehow know you can’t be, but
My body responds to your phantom touch
And I cry out your name, trembling as the
Tormented wind echoes against
The cliffs that surround me with
Their emptiness.

It certainly feels as though I
Should have never made you
The caretaker of my soul.

To say I want my life back now would
Be too cruel--you must, after
All, keep something of me
With you, wherever you are.
It’s the only way you can love me.

But you took everything from me.

And I hate you for leaving me like this.

Memories haunt me, their
Torture leaving me their slaughtered
Victim when I think of you, and dreams
Are all I have left, dreams
That destroy me in an
Agonizing haze of
Unexperienced ecstasy.

I lie on a bed of thorn-filled roses,
Oblivious to their pain,
Ignoring the slow bleeding of my
Heart as my tears drown me
In my sleep.

But do I really want to awaken?

I cannot escape the truth, for it is
Written in the frothy abyss of
The sea, written resolutely
In an ever-changing pattern
Of pain.

It all seems so clear now...

My life is mere existence, a
Revelation given to a dying
Soul by unseen demons
Who take pleasure in
Consuming the light that once
Guided their victims’ way.

I am nothing without you.

You are nothing to me now but an invisible
Link to an irretrievable past, and though I
Wonder if you’ll be there when I
Finally have the courage to join you,
The sea endlessly whispers a pagan answer to me...

The answer is no.

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.