starved

Why does the sun hide underneath the moon?
Behind horizons, an indirect light.
Ambiguous twinklings will be here soon,
Dangling from gold orbs by string of kite.

The sky is cloudy, cloudy yet not gray
Behind a scowl climbs my blinded bawl.
The dusted earth seems fainter each rot-day
And still I saunter through the zombie-mall.

Hark! A silver surgeon slices my veil.
Her glittering scalpel, through my dull eye!
The ashen wasteland folds into a trail,
Facing in all ways, the angel doth cry!

The riddle unanswered, it slowly dies.
And from its shell, an omni-feeling flies.