I sat atop a silent hill
and gazed upon the sky
A lucent moon gazed back at me
and I began to cry.
For even though one such as I
Walks alone through unspoken assent
I grew too familiar with solitude
and familiarity breeds contempt.
Every fortress needs
supplies
Every whale comes up for
air
So too do I desire friends
when loneliness’ cross
becomes too heavy to bear.
And so I rise
And prepare tomorrow’s guise
Night falls and my head follows suit
And so I sleep
I dream
I wake
Then for my own good
The Hill
I forsake.
