The despair factor

Along the path where the stream is talking. i breath the mist and continue walking. the wood it whispers in a language of it's own. as a sigh escaped my lips i feel the light caress my fingertips that steal away the breath and leave me on my own, waiting by the stairs. waiting. i despair. do i hear the hollow sound, footsteps resounding on this frozen ground, or the familiar disappointment of the echos of my own? somehow i ended up here in between, where there is always the comfort of knowing i'll never be seen when i fall. i wait for just one touch... and i fall... weightless. endless. faithless. i'll adore you. a single touch before i fade. painless let me pass through.