obscured by the now dreary slow melancholy
I had not noticed the lighting day of the bare outside

the outside

oh I how I ache and mourn in its wake

a figure,
a person,
a beautiful creature stands;
towering over you with a delighted, but distraught grin tipped at the ends of each cheek he holds
something more valuable carved in his hands in great attempt for discreet
but he is behind you, always
you turn only to feel his presence lingering for a tiring, taunting second
a pained, dried inhale
a relieved, steady exhale
but the breath is not returned as yours
maybe you can ask him to linger in your tender air
and stay, slowly swaying against his breath,
but you could let him fly instead;
instead of brushing through broken, braided ties of your hair

The boy brought his rocket ship and his soft pursed lips,
pressing his gentle words into the eyes, to brighten the night,
the eyes of stars.

It now shines, gleaming, but not with such loud impulsion so that the sun comes to hear;
only in a gentle glow, that mimics the boy's lively, beautiful, flow

sending a beacon to path the boy through every star and every galaxy
the path so clear,

but the boy long gone


It finds itself to shine to a slight glow
refusing to show its silent desires
of the gentle cheek of that boy

But still holding, its now, ghastly shade of path
a last hope
a final word through breath;

finally it shines no more
containing its last words
wanting to wait or hope no more
All of the world seemed to scream
except for the boy who forgot to dream.