Point up at the sky where the moon use to be.
A darkness pervades the night.
A gentle wind carries a cold tale;
A story of how the sun rose every morning, unwaveringly,
Without hesitation, hoping to catch a glimpse
Of this luminescent lunar love...
CSVH
Comments(0)
Join the discussion — sign in to leave a comment
Sign In to CommentNo comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!