Of the lone wilderness
My forest weeps over.
As I complain,
For his camaraderie
To the stars and clouds
So intriguing
In the serene white.
Don't they see his visage
so morbid ?
As a mirror pulverized
He dangles
Through the burnt trees
Of me
I envy him
Of his friends .
I weeped to him weakly,
But he heard.
He heard
And fondled me with moonlight
And grace
He traced my existence
with love
"Child of mine ,
fostering resent for whom?
For the fog beleaguering gloom?
Or the heavenly orbs of pain ,
The stars who glow in vain ,
Bereft of the light
In their eyes
Why do you fancy
My friends not
But perjurer ,
Who come and go as they please
Who walk away after the night.
Do not just swallow
Your solitariness , for it's divine.
True to your self ,
Truth that you despise."
With the preach of
His hymn
Of the virtue
Went away
His starry light.
I envied the moon
Out of the illusion,
An illusion of his friends.
For what were those
Narcissist dead stars
But just a mirage.
The moon
Was also lonely
In the duvet
Of the deceit
Of the stars doused in vanity.
I couldn't smile ,
But stare in sympathy,
As now he'd accompany me ,
And I would to him.
Two trampled bodies ,
Would now sleep
Together in the
coarse scrim.
