the phases of moon devoir every night
I get more far away,
these days repeating themselves,
a miser might know better,
collective thieves,
and the charmers of the night,
just want to be better than yesterday,
yet the undeservings won,
but till when, until then
so many questions have been asked,
so many have got unanswered,
can this be called crescent
perhaps I hope it makes sense.
every night I sleep knowing I'll be hopeful in morning but I do know the truth.