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"Quietly Vibrant"
I can’t help but hide from this envious moon,
Clinging to the sky like ivory on oak.
Intertwined fibers of its circumference gleaming,
Outside, nostalgic avenues form rivers, streaming.
I can’t help but stare at these silent walls,
Repelling the cold air like magnetic aversion.
Headlights shine lambent, photonic, reflecting.
Inside, dark paint glitters, diverting, infecting.
As the immoderate stars watch over us, burnished,
The fear of hereafter is compelling, yet mystic.
I watch from my chamber, I listen; I wait,
A schema, cognition, they must procreate.
Why do I hide from an obscure world?
Outlining boundaries, fearful, despondent.
Expressions vague, a world aside.
These factions of cryptic, doth not subside.
Why be afraid of a future forthcoming?
For thou shall come quiet, vibrant, becoming.
