He wears the moonlight like a cloak
Shrouding him in pale mystery
His every breath becoming one
With the gentle breeze that caresses my cheek.
No need does he have for simple conversation;
His thoughts whisper through each lonely blade of grass
Travelling on the wind,
soaring skyward towards the heavens,
to slumber peacefully in drifting clouds
Until they tumble gently to reach my ears
And my ears alone.
The stars can no longer profess
to be the brightest shimmer in the hours of twilight;
His eyes burn with a golden fire
that pierces the heavy blanket labelled nightfall
Reaching me across the rolling miles
Watching me from distances unknown.
In his world,
Near is far
and far is near.
Death is more precious than life
And life is not precious without death.
Day is night
and night is existence.
Such is the natural order of life
with my beloved
Embracer of Shadows.
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