Darkness

A dark mist rises

as the full moon meets the apex of the sky,

glittering its stolen light

on the face of slumber.

The sounds of the night are stolen

by a great, overbearing still

in the night air,

like breath taken hostage

and held for ransom to the highest bidder.

The wind caresses the trees,

nature’s greatest love story

is a tragic soliloquy

recited on a stage of earth and stone

before an audience of one,

the only listener

in a world of loose-lipped fools.

The story finishes

into dénouement.

The one listener cries

at the beauty of such a sweet, pale yearning,

and stifles astonishment

at the rest of the audience

who have ignored the greatest truth

ever to grace a string of words

in favor of revelry,

the intoxicating drink of apathy

taking hold of their senses.

The wind picks up strength,

ready to tear down the forest

and all the drunkards with it,

but the trees hold it back

with a calming sway.

Unaware of their dodged fate,

the roused denizens of mindless frippery

fall into a boisterous dance

of tumbling and stumbling and bumbling lips,

forgetting each goal they set for themselves,

caught between shining lights

and pleasant sounds

until they fall victim to time’s impatience.

All their pursuits of obsession and desire

become dust

as they become dust

weathered away by the passing

of everything that ever was.