4evr

Nothing adorns and decorates a pewter concrete face. The Moon shines listlessly its dim and yellow light onto the thoughts that rise to enter small eternal folds of cold crevasses, dark. He pauses by the fields and ponders life itself. No lightning strikes, no thunder spoils the night, and silence reigns above the mist, where human hands just raised remain unseen. He feels it now but knows within his heart that raindrops bring no joy to those who stand alone, and words, etched into stone will weather storms but fade before forever takes his hand.