The skies were torn apart
Revealing
His wide and roving eyes

A young prey
Stood before the morrow
Overtaken by awe
Awaiting, the charitable hail

He found no shred of grief
In her promising eyes
Only the tranquil bliss
Of an unconquered void

Her words fell soft
Upon his youthful hopes
And the fool embarked
For the terror of nights to come

Shrill thoughts now dance
Uncouth and unwavering
Forever tethered
To his withering conscience

No regrets
Is his slow fading mantra
A feast for the haze
Of each cold and solitary dusk