Trudge
I used to stare into the sky,
longingly,
joyous to see in Moon's reflection,
the night's beautiful eyes.
Now all I can see,
as I stare so wearily,
is deception,
loss,
Lies.
Silent Cries.
Every night,
A blatant,
vicious mockery.
Its light
a fearsome wraith,
that will never cease
stalking me.
Then come the day,
The promising,
handsome sun.
My pain hast only begun.
But I will rise again.
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