The sun lowers to meet with the mountains,
the blue of day giving in
to the enchanting ocean of night,
the purple hills growing darker every moment.

My love is nowhere near,
in fact I have not met him yet.
He is a ghost in my dreams,
an echo of my soul.

Where he is,
I do not know.
He lingers yet
he has not come.

Yet still I long for him,
to see his eyes,
whatever color of earth and sky
they reflect.

I wish to see him before me,
his hair messy from sleep,
a one-sided smile
where promises tease my imagination.

Still I wonder,
is he real?
Or is he just a fabrication
of my heart’s desire?