Until the light of day comes, I can't sleep.
The moon light cannot be wasted as in that time I will burrow and weep.
Upon the millions of burdens I carry in my thoughts, nothing else will matter but the good I carry.
The night gets heavy, and the moon does not dim, but I still feel that I'm running out of time; yet the daylight never comes.
Before long, I won't see the light of day when it does come.
I will eventually be taken into the night, and I'll never see the day again.
YOU ARE READING
Berry Tree
PoetryA book of poems, scrambled thoughts, and endless stories. A bit mysterious, but that's the fun of it. You make the story; you imagine, and wonder. Each page is like picking a new berry from a tree.
