Pale Hue

One of the big things that I think intertwines us with the beasts, is that we both have this ocean-deep sense of longing. We look at the moon and yearn to be in the embrace of its light, basking in its hue alongside those we hold in a special place within our hearts. Rabbits grieve actually they cry for the loss of a partner, broken hearted and alone, just weeping. Wolves will wait patiently while their partners hunt, excited to see them return just to sut and have a meal together. I sit as well, gnawing away at my fingernails, biting them to the quick, daydreaming, imagining a world where I sit under the moonlight, beside you. Distance, of course, is always a perpetual thing when it comes to the abysmal feeling of being alone. Wether it's the distance of piercing the veil and holding someone whos passed on, or a thousand mile journey, just to hold them for but a moment, counting the seconds til it ends because the pain of leaving is much too massive. A distance, far to great, from a breath away, an infinite series of melodic nothings, a sweet symphony held as a dam against the sheer vastness of words left unsaid. I long, as all things do, just to sit under that beautiful pale hue of the moon, alongside you.