The moon can’t cure my illness
if I abduct all of her stars.

I fill my veins up with light
only to control the despair,
but I am left with a vacant sky.

Minutes tremble before me,
seconds fall at my feet;
I have no time left.

The delight of reaching rock bottom
without the impact.
Let me rest.

Fill me up to the brink with hope
and leave me for dead.
Leave me in secret.