Searching

He had been warned
not to go out late.
Darkness was a lonesome creature.
It was still.
Quiet.
Silence was deafening.
But he had to think.
He had to spend some
time wrestling those
images.   Images.   Images.
It was difficult to see anything –
to hear anything
when inner visions
were stronger than
any the environment could provide.
He shuddered as wind danced past him.
Full clouds peered down toward his figure.  
Glistening Moon spread its fingers
across a vast sky –
brush-strokes of snow-white paint
creating slopes upon a black canvas.
He waited for answers
to cure his fears – fears
embedded so deep in his soul
they seemed to exist forever.
An answer would be given
A granted cure would
end his suffering.
Anticipating the cool calmness
of peace, he draped his
lash-covered lids
over searching eyes.