The moon

An impassive observer,

Looming overhead,

Floating ominously,

fills me with dread.

The distant moon glowing,

Wise, serene, all knowing.


The moon

Quiet as a grave,

Controlling the deadly waves.

Watching us be,

Our glory,our doom, it does see.

All the secrets it heard over the years,

It knows our desires, our deepest darkest fears.

Hidden away beneath its silvery soft silhouette.

Nothing concerns the godly ball of magic,

Except its loneliness, oh how tragic.

To have all these tales, and no one to share,

All this beauty, yet untouchable.

Oh! How unfair.

When solitude creeps in the middle of the night,

Look up and see the moon,

So alone, yet full of light.

Waiting to be saved,
From it’s plight.

Copyright ( c ) [ Sneha P ]
Image – clicked by me.


4 thoughts on “The moon

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