A Sense of Yearning

The woman beckoned to the phantasmal apparition That stood by her bed, watching in pity, her weary eyes In desperate need of a long sleep sans the anguish; She looked at him, and a smile broke its way out From the vicious corners of her horizon-less world; In the ghostly figure she searched frantically For the pair of eyes that had once housed The promises, the cures, and an enormous castle of sand; But darkness was all that stared back. The woman pulled the blanket down, and looked At her son, by her side, asleep in the shade of tranquillity. The silhouette bent over his son, and the woman Felt a soft puff of cold breath kiss her skin. And then from within the shadow of a man once alive Came the  whisper, in a voice awfully bruised, "I wanted to watch him grow." His fingers reached the woman's teary eye, but All he could do was pull more tears out; Only then did his eyes fall upon his medal; The medal of honour, they called it; It lay on the table Wi