I stand on this slate-grey rock,
lit unnaturally by some unseen glow,
adrift in a barren, starless void,
tinted a color darker than black.
And into this void I shout
my carefully crafted words,
a missive, a paen, to someone…
Somewhere I know she hears.
It feels an eternity I spend waiting,
as seconds turn to minutes and into days,
I stand, (im)patiently, (im)perfectly still,
for an echo that may never come.