That Last Night

A night of moonlight, gently it gleams, passing glass panes, and onto the floor. 
I sit alone reflecting, thoughts of melancholy aching,
Reflecting and thinking, doubting each decision,
each thought, each action, every word that I had spoken-
Spoken just utterly hours before...

Oh, to sit there facing, my poor mind, and it's racing,
with each breath that I'm taking, my struggles,
I've contemplated each one only more.
My thoughts, as they deepen, my worry only grows-
Shaking my poor soul to its core...

I close my eyes, pondering those words I had spoken, while politely a token,
did she recognize them not as something than more.
My heart, I had opened, for when those words were then spoken,
as those were intentions, or fail did I mention, those and-
those of nothing more.

I knew from the silence, sitting here, I strive now to make sense, 
alone with the moon, hark thee, the darkness, and my nebulous floor.
A being now broken, for feelings I had spoken on deaf ears not woken,
each syllable fell, where the moonlight once laid upon my subtle floor-
the moonlight of whom, of whom I’ve spoken before.

Wiping away the tears, a storm, growing from past years,
the clouds refuse to wither, unlike my reckless, foolhardy heart.
With all of my conviction, that which now haunts me, burgeoning in my ears,
the wicked voices bellow until I hear, transforming a storm;
one into thy greatest fear, that, and now something more.

A gripping fear, that more a sinister kind, slowly now unwinds,
consuming my being, displacing that which was commonly pure.
My worries, the doubt, all thoughts of the evening, earlier about,
had been pieced together, clasped only lightly, held only tightly,
until visions of another, released them, I’m sure.

Deaf ears, now listen, for didn’t I only ask for a second, 
or did not the clocks hands let you know this, unmannerly, I implore.
Crying, I reach out, I reach for all of that which once I adored,
and while words were merely spoken, it’s still I that’s broken,
until this time, a time that regretfully, and sorrowfully I explore.

Dream, to dream a last time of your face, once then a desire,
that summons me now, a better place, one where misery knows no more.
Uttered words whisper, asking that I follow, on this my final hour,
a once moonlit floor, forever now, I shall rest, a soul begins to tire,
undergoing, no longer the torment, of the words I once wore.

Those words, which were just that, for they were innocent words, 
innocent words that I had spoken, and nothing more.
Calling out to the darkness, it’s to you now I implore, the-
one to understand my agony, the pain that my heart seeks,
as it’s the last time, and as life knows now, closing its door.