He descended lost and lonely into this world
fast did he fall, like cold winter's rain
his body broken and his mind shattered
yet he tried to keep himself contained

He felt like a ghost by a warm fire place
but, none of the living could see his form
he was a stranger, a stranger of passion kind
still in love with his sweet crying moon

Solitude and longing had become his good bed fellows
each night in his empty house they would paint nightmares
and when morning was claimed by the screaming of sunlight
they would pack up their paint brushes and go into hiding

His joy was the shimmer of a new dawn sun
it gave deliverance from the pain of loneliness
yet sweet justice came with those wonder nights
for the stranger and his love the crying moon

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris