He sits there,
Silent and disconsolate.
His heart is a mess, His mind taken over by
The intoxicating smell
A putrid glance attracts his attention
The blackness creeping by, Slowly.
Embracing, Hesitating. Silent footfalls.
No control anymore.
Every move an impulse,
Given birth by longing.
She who was the moon, Is clouded now.
She who was the sun, Eclipsed.
Without her light, he is
He is of her, Filled with thoughts of her,
Her smile, Her laugh Her hair,
The way she drew stars in a never ending sky
Of a hopeless breath.
he lies down now, overpowered.
Immersing himself in water, he drowns.
How do you help someone, who doesn't want to be helped?