Last of the Few

The moon already shines high
Testifying his steps
Feeding his shadow
While they dilute themselves in the Tropic of Dreams
For they don’t know the unknown of not feeling
They’ve lost the emptiness to fulfil
What I never knew to be, where I always was
Transparent unknown as I always went
They pushed the door lightening the street
Violated by the storm
Cutting a silhouette in the dark
The window opened with the wind
The glass broke and tore their eyes