Twilight star of the season
Brightly shining, newly risen
Tell us where to plant our feet
We wish to fly so very far
Away from glowing heady daze
Of spent up and spoiled days
From the muddy embankment
Our hands have formed and shaped
From the silhouetted shapes
Running down the slope
And fleeting like our hope
We pray to you morning star; you are not very far
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC