He Who Wanders

For them,
A light shines
In night and in day.
The stars dance
In gowns of black
Velvet while the moon beams
A cratered, silver smile.
And everyone revels
In the warm embrace
Of the sun’s golden rays.

For them,
A voice is heard
In every empty room:
The sweet songs of angels
On high, the comforting whispers
Of loved ones long past,
And the resonant boom
Of a sightless, soundless

God. But the universe is vacant,
The starways cold, and in the void
Of our heartless realm,
Only deafening silence.