walking into the night

in the distance
a blurring moon
bears witness to
the weight of silences
pressing on the heart
of the solitary traveller
shrivelled in the cold
that cradles his dysphoria
in a lullaby of discomfort
that was not his legacy.
clouds cloak shy stars
and all is dark.
the road ahead, a mire
from yesterday's rain
still drunk with tears
of hollowed promises
that have settled into
crevices of frosted grass
with no strength to
even crackle underfoot.
who will speak up,
and for whom?
as the traveller lumbers
in a muted rage
of restive vacuity,
the witness blurs some more.

tonight is a protest of silence.
and the universe stands
in reclusive solidarity.