The night of the restless;
Alive in the dying waves of moonlight,
They greet the dawn with wide eyes
Of wonder and eternity.
The morning of rushed repose;
They struggle with sleep,
New-born light burning their eyes,
‘Mares melting away like sweat beads.
The afternoon of the unknown;
Even at its supremacy, high and mighty
They rest in the shadow’s shawl
And let the breeze soften their dreams.
The evening of the first thoughts;
What if this was the last ‘set.
The images reflect in shallow eyes
And the liquid gold is set into a mechanic mind.
The night of rest.
With the maternal moon,
Luminous in an ink-blotted sky,
They follow of the stars.
And as long as they dream,
They may not tire.
They may run… run away…
From the last of these days.
The night of the young. Eternal.
Forever. We'll just keep running,
But the sun never stops coming.
Adding your comment:
Vuuury nice write, Nephyyy :}
