There is a certain addiction to my lonely, melancholy days.

A tranquility in walking beneath the light of the moon’s every phase.

Not that its light betrays my sorrow;

The darkness envelops me, yesterday, today and tomorrow.

But the sliver of silver, the pierce of the crescent,

The glittering half and the blazing whole, incandescent

Lights my heart on fire, sets my soul alive.