The soft droplets of a midnight sky play a ballad of stillness on every surface they descended upon that evening. The comfort of a life that seemed so out of reach to a past self is still nestling into the aching bones of this weary vessel. All is uncertain. All is well. Past lives of shame and silencing still weigh heavy. So much betrayal for others' sake, all to end up a dismantled self in the name of another's love.

An object of another's selflessness which hides a malevolent and selfish agenda is all this vessel has known. A repository for so many shameful acts and confessions. A haven for the wicked who parade as wonderful. A one-way mirror that can't mirror back the ugliness within the divine, lest it be cast out. All is broken. All is well.

In the face of corpses of all that died before they could bloom, the guilt is doubtlessly insurmountable. A funeral that has a sole attendant, pallbearer, crier, father, mother, widow, lover, and all parties mashed into one. Countless masks for countless "could have beens." All were dying in the name of incalculable fallacies and falsehoods. All is grief. All is well.

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Tired. So, so tired. Throughout the minds and hearts of others, one is many. One is tired. Truly tired. The bells of another corpse await, yet one will not answer this time. Not now, not ever. The humming silence is the home of all those who lie buried in the towers of the living folly's misbegotten solitude. The rain is still still singing a wistful melody. All is somber. All is well.

A great betrayal happened a long time ago. An insurrection that led a budding empire to the gallows. Ruins are scattered across and below this desert. A pity that dreams of discovering new planets and painting on canvases made of thin air all devolved into seeking the embrace of the solitary unknown. To err in peace is all this vessel wishes for. Now and forever. For all that was lost.

All is quiet. All is well.