I find myself sleeping less and less at night; basking in the eerie glow of the moon. The stars appear and moon sings his soft lullaby to set my soul alight. My mind races with one thousand fragments of dreams. Once again I write a love letter to moon... last night was no different.
I have found I love the moon,
with all his pale glow,
tricking those unconnected to the dark,
that like him, they too are ghosts.
But the moon is no apparition
who hangs from a dead man's noose
as a gentle reminder the sun is gone
and darkness always spills in.
He does not live in the darkness.
Unseen by those who dream.
I have found I have always loves the moon,
as each night he starts to fade,
tricking those unconnected to his love,
that he cannot bare to light their way.
But the moon has taught me things unseen.
A flower grown in stars,
who in twenty-eight days will wilt.
Unseen by those who dream.
I have found I will always love the moon,
with all his timeless secrets,
tricking those unconnected to his light,
that he will only ever hide.
But the moon whispers lullabies,
until I set him free,
who kisses me awake with stars and,
meets me in my dreams
I have found the moon will always love me.
It's our foolish, wild dream,
Sometimes I hear him cry:
'that I break his fragile heart.'
For the moon never sleeps and,
some nights I never wake.
