***
Placed on a silver platter,
She shone, never to falter,
There is no room for error,
Likewise, abided by terror.
Her dear children of the night,
As they escapade by her sight,
Fleeing with their own light,
Twinkling so bright.
Is it a foe for a foe,
Never mind, I think you are so,
Cascading behind me, you do,
Seeing me sadly, as I go.
My love, my love,
Sleep like a pretty dove,
Lullabies with different measures,
Scouting hidden treasures.
Placed on a silver platter,
She shone, never to falter,
I was wrong, there's room for error,
Likewise, abandoned by terror.
***
"This poem means that the silver moon is like a mother that shines so bright and the one who takes care of her children when she is still the one carrying them throughout their young age."
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A World of Poems
Poetry"The dead that weaves in the spindle, A bundle of silk - woven and spun, Collected and collected, Until it's a huge massacre of stars." -Excerpt This is an original made poetry collection about life and are written in many forms of genre like love...
