Tonight

I walk, stuck in day's attire, through this night, with the moon shining so ardent and bright. Ordinarily this means something greater to me, but tonight, my thoughts have somewhere else to be. The eyes with which I see this lunar glow, are the same as ever before; the same sights they sew. And yet the ethereal coating behind that sees magic in moon and rain, tonight is blind to these. The anger that burns, over stupidity flagrant, wanders through my mind; 'tis my heart's tempestuous vagrant. "Do this, do that, and too the other thing; into my house, no wit shall you bring." Of course I'll do it, what choice is there? For the new and detested, respite is no affair. Doesn't mean I agree with the lack of intelligence, the too-often false, needless exigence. I chose a path that in the end, I had to take, I chose a path that even now can't be deemed fully a mistake. But tonight, it truly seems so, truly seems misled; tonight I wish for a life elsewhere instead.