Not all nights are refulgent with stardust,
Bleak and dark, some nights still foretell the signs
Of once great bond annihilate to dust.
Fossil of dead warmth still vexingly whines.
Nostalgic seeping into the very past,
Good times prick deep into the nerves like thorns.
Nurtured by love, some things still do not last.
Mind wants to walk away, afflicted heart scorns.
But until extreme tolerance is breached,
Hatred like plague enfeebles us within.
Liberation seldom practiced, often preached.
The veil between just and better draws thin.
No smoke rises from now serene ashes in stove,
Apathy, not hatred is absence of love.