He is no longer afraid of the loneliness of roads
Nor the hidden trauma that his silence breeds
What rips his soul during midnight’s bitter sting
The feeling of a villain status in her altered sight.
He walks through days with basalt in his chest
A quiet volcanic ruin where old memories rest
One who once eulogized friendship as a delight
Now turned away convinced that wrong is right.
The fading glow of seasons makes him shiver
If truth will ever reach heart that ceased to hear
At a time, his name would flower on her lips
Like warmth that chased away all winter chills.
That the very bonding appears stained and torn
The reciprocal care undone, holy trust forsworn
Before the curtain falls on this hollow pilgrimage
He craves for the fog to clear for a final goodbye.
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