Longing

In times like this I feel a longing.
A pull inside of me.
A calling of another time.
I feel out of place in this day and age.
Outside of this advanced world with my wanting of days of old.
Outside of this world with my desires and beliefs.
Outside of this world with my heart, mind, spirit and soul.
Outside of this world.
My heart dances with a memory of another place.
A place from long ago.
I can not escape this wanting,
This urge to be somewhere I cannot be.
I long to have existed in another time.
A time of beauty and simplicity.
An age of mystery and superstition.
Of true love and far away fantasy.
My soul longs for these ancient days.
My spirit lives in memories of that life,
Though my mind cannot remember anything.
My desires peak and my imagination soars.
How I wish to live in those forgotten nights,
Those wished kissed days,
Where everything and anything was possible.
Perhaps my spirit is recalling a life I have left behind.
A life my soul was not ready to let go of.
Perhaps it was ripped from me by another,
Or even by my own hand.
I do not know many things,
But there is something I have no doubt of:
I live in the wrong place.
I exist in the wrong time.
I wish to return.
I wish to go home.