The night is when the heart is meant to rest
The night is when emotions are supposed to
Dissipate into a magic dust dispersed
And recollected when the morning wakes
Supposed to
The night haunts me with altered past and twisted future
And transforms me into an unimpressive beast
Most certainly domitable, its agency subjugable
A peasant in the false queen's empire
Destined to fall
Move on, misbegotten mind
Love yourself as you loved her
I feel like an old man whose cognition falters
Whose sentience was sentenced to be compromised
Whose motoric function and coordination
Pale in comparison to the brightness of
His mental images
I see the hands that conveyed the harm
I see the mind that brought it about
The hair I used to daydream at the sight of
Which I'd now behold in discernible discomfort
You've no idea
Move on, naïve lustbearer
You are but a prisoner to your animal self
How I wish I could speak to you all and say
With utmost honesty and nothing concealed
That I've lacked the time and will to ponder
These long worn-out brightly colored memories
These broken melodies
I pray that my age of dreading a solitary decomposition
Was not forged sempiternal
To those whom I love
To those who I am yet to love
To those beside whom I am to walk at the fully automated
Supermarket in my seventies as we grab some groceries
You have my word
That this mess shall disperse
For I am merely a seedling yet to grow into an immense oak
To those whom I love
To those who I am yet to love
I am yours
Mine is a face just like yours
Mine is a face just like hers
A face walking past faces again and again
For faces come and go
And their congregations wax and wane
Like the funeral moon
When my rotten bark falls unto the soil that spawned it
It shall be fine with me
If what assembles should be a gathering of few
So long as it should be a gathering of the true
