In the still of the night…
Trembled the solitary soul
Hollowed by the experiences he has had to face
In this journey called life
Never once expecting what was to come, or
Knowing how things will turn out…
Weeping quietly,
Eternal tears.
Arraigned in robes of broken hopes
Rekindled, only to be
Extinguished, once more, and once again
For whom does he yearn,
A friend who takes him for who he is?
Loving in spite of flaws,
Listening to what is not said,
Instinctive and intuitive,
Not ever, ever taking him for granted
Graced by perfect manners, and guided.
Although, such is but a fantasy
Pierced by the harsh reality that is human
And what is human is never perfect
Ragged and rough, the edges of being…
That leaves the soul but shreds of… dreams, unachievable.
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