No ratings.
A poem about my feelings towards moonlight |
It moves me the way music moves others, To happiness, to tears, to bliss. I wish for it Long for it Crave it The moon's rays feed my soul in a way food can't dream of. I hate the long, drawn out process of waiting for the treacherous sun to set The sun is too harsh Too bright Too happy The moon is an old friend, It gives off a soft glow that slowly seeps into my skin and calms my every nerve. Slows my heart to a low steady beat. deepens my breathing. Relaxes me into a blissful state. It doesn't matter if it's full; a large golden orb hanging carelessly in the sky. It doesn't matter if it's half there; part of her off in a far away place, the other stuck mournfully incomplete in the black, dark, unforgiving sky. It doesn't matter if it's only a crescent; smiling sideways, like she holds a secret only she knows. I dread when the moon is new Darkened by the sky A sky, black and foreboding, Unwelcoming to any light, a cold place. It makes me restless, ever tiring and troubling. I love how the stars twinkle, like pieces of glitter around her without overtaking her precious limelight from the sun. The moon makes me want to dance internally, gracefully like a ballerina. I love the way the moonlight streams into my room giving off a silvery, luminous glow. And again, when I awake, I find the ever shining and vain sun. Outshining the moon, And dampening my mood, Making me feel empty and lethargic. I then begin my ever vigilant wait, for the moonlight. |