Alone I sit and count the skies,
Each star a wound, each wound a rise.
They strive to shine, yet all must swoon,
For none outshines her face the moon.
One day, perhaps, I’ll touch her light,
And dive within her oceans’ sight.
Her eyes, the seas I long to keep,
Her lips, the mountains haunt my sleep.
I’d hold her close through endless song,
To thank her swift, to weep her long.
She came, she left, a fleeting flame,
I whisper still her sacred name.
She spoke, but not a word was mine,
Her gaze on him, her silver shine.
The world loves moons, the stars must fall
I was her star, she was my all.
Oct 29, 2025
Oct 29, 2025 at 4:53 AM UTC