Never before have I looked up to the sky only to realize I was alone.
The stars are my friends, clouded, out of reach.
No moon beams dance in my shaded pit.
Endless darkness masks my tears.
Those ebony stains behind my eyes,
on my hands, streak my feet.
Lonely vapors form a frost,
quiet, silent, gorgeous, alone.
No echo should be heard lest my breath be ripped away too.
I can't live without it.
Or am I already dead?
After many nights passing, the great
Inverse light begins to have a certain dark warmth,
like a midsummer night where the fireflies flit
and bats smite all insects with
A swift, black justice.
The lengthy shadows melt away,
the sky begins to glow.
Never before have I looked down to the earth only to realize I was among friends.
Light reflected from some faraway place
Beckons photons to start anxiously in preparation for the day.
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