Night, and the silver moon

The one lost between the years, to the congruous symphonies of treachery.

I have been cursed, to live immortal,

for a thousand years to come, and gone by.

Feeding on fear and loneliness, to satiate my obsession,

for a one true friend, who never came.

How I long for the rising sun, to drench me in a veil of light,

kissing my skin tenderly, and warming my blood.

How I long to hear the birds, sing away, in all their exultance.

In them, I find a resonating heart, incapable, of human emotions.

Bereaved, of Improvident and ignominious acts of misery.

How blessed are those who have no fears!

to whom the night brings the blessing of sleep, and nothing, but sweet dreams!