He stays in there
in that empty starless skies
Half lit and that half barely lit
Crescent yet really present
He is alone
The passing clouds
Muddy his mind
Time and again
He vanishes in them
In the darkness around and
Letting them surround
He takes his time
His own time
To be full again
To be lit, in the ivory white
He knows that
The passing clouds
Are there to stay
So is he, so his struggles are
He loves being bathed
In that ivory light
So does he, with the struggles
To be that full and lit again
For he knows
Nothing stays
Neither his moments of glory
Nor his days of struggle.
Without wax
Ash
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