Laying in a darkened room.
The moon peers down at me.
Me; the speck. The ant. The insect.
The tiny human life.
The moon is a harsh woman.
Burning you with her scorn.
Anger boils on pale skin.
The night.
Poets dream for what they've lost.
And dreamers dream for what they haven't got.
Laying in the darkend room.
Shadows trace the wall.
Leaving me, stranded in the gloom.
Alone.
Alone with the moon.
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