As the moon pales of lustre, and the sorrowed stars fall in lamentation of dusky hours, unforgiveness is its own orb of misery, our heartsickness strickens our lives, still absent from one another, we grow grayer into white, as the evefall speaks of barren dreams, as the unforgiveness is carried on the catafalque, yet, not unburdened, and still unburied. Poet's note: I'm in no way advocating that an abuse victim stays with their abuser. Never stay with an abuser.