Within the semblance
Of your eyes,
Turning about to face the sun
As it cries
Yellow light to stream from its void,
Where a moon sought to crush the blanketing
Rose of where you highlighted your face
Upon, when your life was certain.
I leave you to the winds.
Suffer more, for I can never win.
Like leaves that leave their branches,
With the moon that buries the noon,
When it is highest above,
For I cannot send a greater signal
To you, in the evermore night.
With your father upon the cross,
When will be the time
That you shall shine?
The moon has already sated you,
As the sun has already left you,
Along with the leaves.
I can bend to nowhere,
Like stems that receive winter’s
For I am just the starkest velvet
Set upon lips that never smile.