Bonerkill

Penny for your thoughts, pity for your loss.
An offence from across the pond,
A once marveled idea suddenly made unfit to put to use.
To not question the most confusing emotion softens the blow.
Life-long hope, shortened to two weeks.
Would a lesser individual resort to spite?
But, oh, what a shame...
Unknown to all, even to it's creator,
The Hero kneels before the Sun, but is left in the night,
Leaving a silhouette of forgiveness in it's conclusion.
A key under the mat, a door on the latch.
The moon is all I have left.