Painful Patience

And those glossy eyes stare up high,

Enamored by the starless sky.

For, though this night was clouded and dry,

He knew his night was nigh. 


And the grime and filth he'd wept upon

Had come from dust untouched. 

So still had been the dreamer,

He'd built himself a home.


But in unbridled nights grand,

He thought more than future bland;

His grace of thought would lead him whence

He would come to draw freehand.


So as nights shall pass and blend as more,

He must wait until he is sure.

Only then will he free up his legs

To waltz forward evermore. 

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