Words grow stale 
Like the laughs of a stranger
Your tongue, a feast for flies

A vigil stare 
Resists the danger 
perduring in disguise

Every night 
The moonlight harbors 
Your armor beyond repair

But like the thorns 
Within the arbor 
They partake in the beauty there

Goodbye to you 
My spurious friend
Our path was never bound

For our ways 
Have come to end
My journey more profound