Defenestrator20

Looking left, looking right in my state of panic, in my state of fright. Now is not the time to flee; now is not the time to fight. I know this well, and yet, in spite I turn around; I take flight running into the protective cloak of the blanketing night. Mother moon, shining dim, shining bright guide me into your everlasting light. You touch my face, you touch it slight. I beg of you, deliver me from my plight! Silence. My words plummet like a kite. Am I too ordinary, am I too trite? What do you desire, I am being polite! Yet you stare at me accusingly, no aid do you incite. I swear to you, I'm being contrite! I've done nothin