and the moon comes to me in such solitude

in a world which i craved to no longer have nothing to do

for a mystique creature that night created in her room

the bed lays cold while the sweat drenched down her throat

for she too was the moonlight that this empty world obtained

the touch of dark matter to the skin that is left to crawl upon

unable to recognize the beckoning of such a call

and so there the night sat, in the hands of the unknown

where the sky cried while the sea sat untouched and alone