The Eighth Day - Ep 5 - Candour

Capture my truth, my bliss.
Glistening in the borrowed light of the moon.
Casting a shadow on yesterday
beauty beheld.
Witnessing the engagement of a body and soul.
The fractured union of myself and I,
fooled by the rapturous bawl of the night.
Emptied of sorrow, eyes now
studded only by pearls.
Unheeded by every star that lingers,
gripping the earth with broken fingers.
Yielding not to loneliness, being mindful
of mindfulness.
Shrinking gazes from afar, 
catch sight of secrets strewn across my pallor.
A tarn of tears not mine alone,
quenching the wits of passers-by.
An ocular display of everything human
instinct or inclination.
Evoking bemusement and sympathy, 
assuring me that i am needless of both. 
My exhibition seeks not an audience
exuding only what it must release.

At what point will I find my peace?