A surname mocks with desolation.
Damned to endure her sweetest arcane.
Her passing thoughts stir elation;
A libertine's flash cannot sustain.
Exigencies resume where they began.
Torment moans with reticence donned.
Yet Madmen's desires arrest that man.
Moments rapt to a kind demimonde.
Waken for this and every night.
It's not tomorrow yet.
A moon and the stars still hang
Over a million wishers without regret.
Mere echoes are silent nights
As dynamics erupt with fires.
Sleep will be a dreary lull
When stars are desires.
Rouse for any single moment,
Let it be the meekest elation.
An unresting conscious enemated
by the sweetest hibernation.
Insomnia mustn't be shaken.
Awaken, awaken, and awaken.
With her hands pressed against the wall,
I plainly hear a gentle song of a small bird.
And a refrain echoes through my room,
yet at night, it can barely be heard.
She is ladened with a faint breath
As a songbird whispers of grievance
Because this will never be my night.
And the melody is merely a reassurance.