The Moon, Himself

I’ve never known this sort of pain… I only want rain…

I long for dark clouds and roaring thunder…

I imagine the earth will swallow me up and take me under…

My heart beats with haste and all time seems to be such a waste…

It has 380 hours since I breathed…

O only if there was anything else that I would want or need…

If it were diamonds, I’d obtain that luxury.

If it were train, I would hop on quite urgently.

If it were the stars, that would be simpler to obtain…

But not even The Moon Himself can prevent; how relief continues to escape my pain…

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