Throned you sit,

Lingering among my countless thoughts

I once thought you 

Devoid of empathy

Stoic and taciturn,

Silently judging my every movement

Our souls were a bleeding moon,

Once chained but long forgotten

Crushed in the palm of your hand

In a moment of thoughtless rage

I, a hapless creature 

Completely in your control,

At the hands of a puppet master

You left

When your curiosity was satiated 

And called out my name one last time

Interrupting the silent night

With your stale anthems 

As I started into the stars,

Spread in navy blue silk,

A heterogeneous mixture of molten, solar, sequin, and birthstone beauty,

Glowing,

I thought I saw your face 

I told you once that we too,

Will one day become acquaintances with the two faces of death,

The cold and clammy and bright and young,

One where oranges grow plump

On branches 

Never wanting of water

The other,

Cold and barren

Where you might die a thousand times again,

Drowning in solitude.