The Montane Solitude

Quiet as dead we lay,
On that dark solitary night.
Thinking of life at play,
And of our melancholy blights.

We talked that day,
Of stars and mountains far away,
Of fate at play and
Of life; so akin to fragile clay.

Jolted and turned to frays,
We had to go, part ways.
But with hands resting underneath our heads,
We were counting silent stars instead.

I said I talk to the moon
And you said, “Talk to me,”
I said the stars are my only friends
And you bore me a, “What about me?”

I looked into your eyes so brown,
And held your gaze for a little too long.
Hot in the face, you looked away,
Unsure of keeping the promise you made that way.

In our fears, in our fights,
In the taste of tears on those lonely nights,
Standing on the vertigo heights,
Anxious for our fledgling flights,

We took the plunge,
Unafraid of the cheating grunge,
We buckled over, we knuckled under,
Defeating the afflictive thunder.

But now,
It was time to leave; upon us it dawned,
You on your way, I on mine,
Both leaving the mountains behind.


Music: "Porcelain" by Moby!