by Austin Gadson

Good night sweet sunset
Good morning late moon

The breath of loneliness hangs above him
The blue weather followed by a sudden swoon

The desire to release a sullen reservoir through his windows is there
However when the sun appears he shall not dare

As the candles glimmer on the reflection of stained mirrors
Springtime lilies long to bloom
The ink dried quill near an abandoned vase
Bores a secret one may desire to uncover

Set on the davenport where it wrote its last
Whether it may have been its future or its past
Only time may tell what time will cast

A siege of precarious thoughts uncovers a siege of its own
While the shrills of indentured angels reign and
Cradles the room that is of cold air and silence

Seemingly all is in his room except the moonlight that was supposed to shine through
All is in his house except the happiness upstairs.

Goodnight sweet sunset.
Good morning late moon

A happy home is welcoming
Except when it’s a mess.

It’s a lot like staring at peace
When you run into the bleak night you lay to rest