Transcendental Sonnet #1415:
Night Flight

My first three books all might as well be thrown in the sea
Written as they were for one who cares nothing for me
It hurts now to read of the love I poured inside them
I was once so proud of them but now sadly hide them

The last time I talked to her she had them in a box
In the attic with the artifacts like broken clocks
It took the best tattoo artists here from miles around
Working hours and hours on my arm to get her name drowned
To make her star fall in terrible beautiful flame
And to leave a black hole where no one can see that name

Some seeing now ask me "Were you shot down?" Yes I was
But no one ever flew higher than I did because
I have a devoted imagination you see
And for a thousand nights I imagined she loved me

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMV

How to overcome the tragedy with beauty, how to calm the fever of love,
your soul screams out for one but their doors are closed with a sign *busy with fears and doubts* Should you leave them alone, leading to the abondonement of yourself? We'll wait for them, let's hope they can come out