He’s hanging by a single strand
of lunar love
and solar shine.
Alight with celestial passion
it's hard to say
if he’ll be alright.

He cries its timeless injustice
with gracious lips
and pleading eyes.
A beaming gaze on its threshold
of a corporeal lament
he’d much despise.

Centuries seemed to spiral by
unable to fulfill
so simple a desire.
His lasting wish—a lended ear
but all they did
was point and smile.