Don’t Cry Alone

For even the night craves the glow of the moon and the stars so he can see the broken angles of her ebony face, watch the embers drown in her pearl-hued tears, witness the gleam of her snow white knuckles as she grips the velvety dark against her nameless sorrow.

For even the night, her raven tresses flowing over the nape of her bowed head, her eyes blackened by the unfulfilled dreams of all creation, even this night with her lightless soul needs the clouded sky to open his arms so she can cry.

alone, a lament
wanders the hills,
searching

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