Luna

My paphian thoughts dance like wisps in your long and unaquatinted night. Though I see into all you have, I see little of the empirical and live largely in mystification.

And over my beating chest lies the gremlin of nightmares who ushers in doubt and those faculties that dwell purely in imagination.

I wake consumed and lost and dreamy by head. Hollow, aching and crestfallen by heart. So I breathe and continue, marching slumped, beaten and raw.

Upon my head rests the eternal question mark, as a halo, my crown adorned with gilded dragons as of the knight king of Kings. My dragons murmur with misery as they lose themselves amongst the innumerable loops lost on time and fearful of dejection.

I lay on the ruby silken mass and sink into the depths where my allies reside. They taunt and jeer, ensnaring my mind full of frown.

For to find a true heart you must endure and remain just. Wanting the unattainable and wallowing in the sad ache of disappointment only serves to beseech the feeling moreso.

I live my life each night from beginning to end and each time it’s another fable, another myth, another allegory. I drift into grandfather night expectant and soft with peace. As the morning looms clarity reigns supreme and I am turned to stone until I no longer see myself in mirrors and glass.

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