Today the sun is not the sun;
the moon is not the moon.
I ask them for clarity;
they give me only silence.

No, just nights ago
did I marvel at the soothing legitimacy
of those celestial bodies.

Sat in the woods under lucent light
and rummaged together some sort of gravity,
the closest I've ever come
to making something beautiful.
Here was my heart,
filled with hope.

Here was the moon,
so close as to stare back.
The others didn't notice
the tears that dripped
from crater to crater.
Or that cheshire-cat grin,
the devious omniscience
of the closest thing to god
that I've ever known.

Only nights ago,
as I sat with light in my veins
and glasses off,
while the strings of the universe
resonated a brief harmony in me.
For once
I cherished what I couldn't comprehend.

Yet that moon set
and here is a hollow replacement with a plastic smile
stuck in its place.

That music is not here anymore:
an echo forever
reverberating in an alternate reality.

...Yet I am stuck Here:
Here is a child
Here is his sadness
Here is his smile
Here are his words
Here is his heart
Here is me.

Here was your voice,
and now it's gone.