Not Titled

It has been a year
of glimpse and hear
Since the message blown
And words were flown
Caught by the screen
Lighted small and green

I might not said it clear
Given much in tear
I regret my own
Left myself in groan
For not able to be sure
And selfish by nature

Are you still there?
Sleeping in ephemeral dream
Going through a vast stream
Standing before a letter?

Were you still here
I assure myself, dear
There will be no moan
Passing through like a cone
As you let it to be sure
I will endure

It has been a year
of glimpse and hear
Since the message blown
And words were flown
Would it be reversed grin
My asking shan't be din