Child and the Moon
So it seems, every night, as a dream,
She brings to me my respite and misery.
Ever-growing, strong and bright; twenty-eight.
A dream of light: to live without, I’ve learned to hate.
She brings to me my respite and misery.
Ever-growing, strong and bright; twenty-eight.
A dream of light: to live without, I’ve learned to hate.
Shrouded breast, a sweet mist blessed,
On a sea of clouds she rests.
A cycle complete, the ends now meet.
What else could satiate?
On a sea of clouds she rests.
A cycle complete, the ends now meet.
What else could satiate?
The night is long, yet she is gone,
The cold night sings its song.
For now she wrests a novel feat.
Alas, bygones; I’ll wait,
Respectfully and full of glee
Behold: the newest twenty-eight.
The cold night sings its song.
For now she wrests a novel feat.
Alas, bygones; I’ll wait,
Respectfully and full of glee
Behold: the newest twenty-eight.
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