lost in the dark
the wanderer stumbles,
scrapes his knees –
feeling his way
through solitude’s poisonous thorns.

despair attempts to crush his heart
in its paralyzing grasp
and his tear-stained voice
through the emptiness.

the hidden form
of the silent moon
takes pity,
bathes the wanderer
in gentle light
and guides him, slowly
back to safer paths.

Care to share your thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s