The world around me seems to be driven
By the Sun. Sunlight, daytime,
And what can be accomplished.

Slow down, dear sisters! Your life is slipping,
Filtering through you slender fingers,
And you don't even know it.

It's the Moon that I love.
He holds my heart,
Now and forever.
The night possesses such a peace,
Of which day can only dream.
Some nights, he chooses
To illuminate my town,
Giving light the the shadows,
And keeping the city safe.

But other nights,
He plays poker with the Sun.
To bask in her presence,
Her light,
Renewing his own source.
He goes to the girl with the golden hair,
And there he finds restoration.

Those nights of darkness,
I miss my Moon.
And anxiously await his return.

Your name, on my lips,
Tingles like a forbidden
Secret-- kept from me,
Kept from you.

Stars sparkle overhead,
     Like the diamond ring
           I'll never have.

I have applied pressure to the wound
And have bandaged it quite firmly
But nothing stops the bleeding
And nothing stops the ache
My heart broke for you...
But I have no
Bandaids to
Protect
My
Heart.
I hold
It in my
Hands-- blood quickly
Dripping through fingers.
Drops of blood mark my path
Showing just where I have been,
And where I'm headed to. My heartbeat
Stops. It ends, my love, just as you do.

Today marks three years since the accident--
Three years since he lost control of the plane,
Losing every single life, and barely escaping death himself.
This particular evening, the wind is blowing fiercely
As he drives into the city to meet his fiancé.
It's only 6 o'clock, but the sun is nowhere to be seen;
Absolute darkness overwhelms the landscape.
He is growing tired, and pulls to a rest stop for coffee,
But it is locked. how strange, he thought to himself.
He hears the voices of others, but no one is in sight.
The voices crescendo from whispers to blood curdling screams
As he makes his way back to the car.
Suddenly, he feels a distinct hand on his shoulder,
And another firmly cutting off his airways.
A blinding light illuminates everything,
Revealing, in the window, the hand to be his own.