Summer Knight Poem by Tristian Ford

On a Summer night, just like all other nights,
He's all wrapped up in ineluctable thoughts
He spends All night—All alone.

But, on this Summer night, it's a bit different, unlike all other Summer nights,
This Summer night was
All like an icicle, it seemed, so tapering and cold.
All blood like some great river's ice,
All his life broke into pieces
All those pieces of his,
Like watching the fall of
A Vintage Baccarat Crystal Glass Bowl.

How did one's life, on a Summer night,
become frozen?
What time was it when the icicle got broken? Why, at a vulnerable time in one's life,
does loneliness play such a crucial role?
Why does no one come to the rescue at the loud sound of glass shattering,
at the loud sounds of a humble heartbreaking against a poetic soul?

Maybe all sounds were muffled, if not lost,
in the whistle of air, humming against the world's loud rock and roll.
Perhaps all sounds of, all his thoughts,
and
all his actions get suppressed,
if not lost, in his mind.
The gloomiest of his deeply hidden spirit,
against his ineluctable thoughts,
wrapped up in deeply hidden, bloody sorrows.

He's keeping his feelings written in a notebook.
So the truth is, no one knows.

So after he writes, he wraps himself in bedcovers, but before he can lay his head, his tears fall and rest on the pillow.
All he figures out is that one day,
His soul mate will surely come.
He's hoping she will tomorrow
But for now, as peace, to him, comes surely
To sleep, one must go.

I go to sleep praying she's somewhere, praying and, or
Sleeping too.
Praying on a summer night,
Praying a Soul mate is somewhere
Praying for the Summer day,
It won't be as cold as it is now.
I pray this pain turns into power,
This whining turns into wisdom,
And emotions into energy
So then you can understand me
And I can understand you too.
The day that you walk into love with me
And I walk along in love
With you...