The stars quickly dim,
taking their place behind stretching clouds,
as the allure of night fades
and the lamp of the world switches on.
Morning's scent steals grace from sleeps convalescent ether,
rousing hearts and minds from delusional dreams,
to don their disguise of a million lies,
reassembling, to suffer again daily.
And each tick of the clock, mimics the hum of my pulse,
as I sit with head in hands, holding on to my shattering sanity.
For in the light of day, truth is easily seen
in this house, that is not a home;
where the silence unfolds to surround me,
like solitary prison walls.
So aimlessly, I walk throughout the day,
heart wrapped in strands of tender; frayed,
always one beat away from surrender;
anxiously timid, awaiting yet another shoe to fall,
keeping to this intimate isolation,
for this world has proved incapable of trust.
But oh when the night comes, and the blind moon rises,
taking its rightful place in the sky,
I lovingly stand within her sliver rain, and the
subliminal foreplay emanating from stars.
Inside the darkness, shadows span to fill the emptiness
and my consciousness gives way to blurry visions,
staining these eyes with the presence of you.
And its moments like this, I have come to cherish;
when this sensory state of existence,
exonerates me from misery’s melody,
deafening its sound in the hours of midnight suede.