The blinking of night


Tonight, the sky feels kind of different, imposing, like some
perpetual darkness, an invisible peril stretching forth like angry
hands, upon silent thunder, falling rain sighing in emptiness to a
windless sky, amongst those still crowded stars, in absence of
the reverberating sound of the incoming tide, upon those shattering
teardrops falling to the ground, like some disturbing quiet growling
that has my heart striking in vengeful protest against this aching pain
from the inside out of my still eternal hammering, that I continue
silently weeping solemnly for you most of the time.

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Love in its difficulties