Have you ever pondered about our quixotic crescent moon?
How its tantalizing need for recognition radiates a silent tune?
and its lunar hands behold a reminiscent sight,
true shadow of the sun, self-procclaimed earl of the night.
but when morning strikes and turns into afternoon,
it fervently weeps unshed tears, mouthing 'why so soon?'
for once again it will drift behind scintillating solar walls,
and be trapped again in its solitude, as it eternally calls.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Puisi~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
