Darkness lurks upon the farside of my window. Orange red splotches force through the murk, Showing much too little. Too much hidden for those seeking safety. So much away from the accountability of eyes. Sometimes selfish longings, Sometimes the drive to cause pain. Whether avoiding guilt or capture, Night's blanket an ally.
A mind moves beneath the calm. time's unable to truly calm the winds. Stillness fleeting, not withering, yet stunted. Never towering, yet amazingly alive amist hostile winds. Dreaming of quiet pastures which I fear.