AMERICAN STRANGER

Today I am a stranger in my home 
whose foreign landscape betrays my heart.
I succumb to withering shame, despair has ravaged me hollow.
I bend in weakened weariness my head not quite as high.
Everything once near and dear we stand two worlds apart.

All that is, ever was, dissolves before my eyes cast low.
Yet each day still arrives bathed in golden majesty but I cannot touch it.
Her fiery light bombards my form yet my chill persists.
My greedy cells cry out for the warmth that’s but half absorbed.
Thinly formed are the days of late;

Surreal in their seeming lack of substance exist.
Existing but not living just as I with but half a heart stand empty.
Waiting, waiting, endlessly, waiting.  
Anxiously, nervously, fearfully, hoping.
Hungrily yearning for this shared empty to disappear.