(The Squire Reynold doth inspired me in turn. His inspiration from mine and his comment upon his page.)
I gaze upon the stars lit bright
Nothing but me and the night
There I fight a soul comfort
To the dark is whom I blurt
All my unhappiness and woes
There, with green grass between my toes
I whisper and I shout
However it be I need to let out
I talk of nothing or of bitter tears
Of all my hopes and especially my fears
And, always, each night
I talk of my shining light
Who is the one whom creates the strongest feelings of all
The one to whom I'd wish to call
It pains my heart to look at his face
How I wish to see him in my place
Then he might see my melancholy
And come saveth me
Into the night I will stay
Morning come, I'm away
I see upon the stars, outdoor
Wanting, seeking all the more
Not just to whisper to the black
But to have it, or rather someone, whisper back
The dark bile that I contain
Now will no longer remain
Because I give it to the night
As I wait for my shining light.

