The idle solitude
It bites
Steel teeth grasp
A helpless night
Abandoned hope
Slides away
The abyss
Its unholy sway.
Cuts the darkness
Into cubes
Each reflected
In a crying moon
Tears fall
Sheeted glass
The mask it slips
Hours pass.
Scented whispers
On a dying breeze
Floats effortless
To the trees
Branches hung
Meloncholy arms
The idle solitude
It cries.