an untitled poem

A sky that shines with stars at night,
It leaves you gasping at the sight.
A mountain of paint, inside my head
Whispering words better left, unsaid.
Swirling around are hues of blue.
With a sweep of a brush, a stroke or two,
Intertwining between it all, a darker colour, a darker hue.
A sky that shines with lights so bright,
it leaves you aching throughout the sight.
Threads of yellow, hints of white,
a paint that bleeds on midsummer night.

Grasping each one, the moon lies within the sun.
Perfectly in sync, they cannot be undone.
Amidst the blue, spun of yellow so thin,
they gleam together as they spin.
A dance they play, among the stars,
in a sky we thought was once ours.

A mountain of paint, portrays a sky,
where a moon lies within it’s heart,
interlaced in the blue hues of abstract art.