Akin to solidarity

May I not see the moon this once,

shinier than the arrogance of Olympus,

what if it covets silence,

and shudders at the thought of listening?

May I not drench in rain this once,

piercing the core of spirited being,

what if it detests touching mortals,

and craves the sanctity of earth?

May I be plunged into the abyss of my reflections,

lamenting implicit principles,

what if they are folds of obscurity,

engulfing the whites of utopia?

May I be bound to chains this once,

held at the edge of this cliff,

what if the sea is freezing,

and the prisoner wishes to survive?

May I not reach home this once,
strange portions of medicine,
what if solitude was calmer than destination,
and kindness forgotten. 

May I not pray this once,

frenzied speculations and unmeasurable pleas,

what if it parades to the devil,

and the ones in sanctum yearn salvation?