I steal golden apples
From the mouths of the statues of masters
Every night,
I sneak into the garden
Fountains tinkling poems
Rocks whispering symphonies

The sightless eyes of the moon
Track my every breath
Indifferent, uninterested

I bite into my prize
Each sweeter than the last
And I crave,
Crave the fire and ash
That burns my throat when I swallow
That clogs my lungs and eyes

And, the thief I am,
Came crawling back each time
Addicted to the sound of fervour

And every night hear me
Howling at the moon
Every night,
Crumpling into embers and smoke
Baring my soul to a deaf world
Drowning in the sounds of stolen words