under the moon,
in your arms.
the streets of venice at
midnight.
we dance the night away,
you and i.
hands on hips.
arms around your neck.
soft smiles and softer eyes.

surrounded by constellations.
orion stands strong in the sky.
taurus runs toward him.
it's okay,
we're safe.

hand in hand,
we stroll down the
deserted street.
soft, slim fingers
entwined with
rougher, calloused ones.

we laugh and
your eyes crinkle
and it's beautiful.

we don't want it to end.
this night.
so we walk and walk
until the black silk skies
begin to transition
into dark shades of blue.

the sun is waking up.
it's peach light washing over your face.
breathtaking.
birds chirp,
stars disappear,
the morning has made its
grand entrance.  

i say something about the stars
and you smile that smile
and i can't help it
and we kiss.

it's gentle and sweet.
we part, our eyes meet.  
we kiss again and
it's tender and warm
and i love it,
i love you.

the birds wept,
for their home was
crashing down before them.
nests ablaze.
the sickening cries of their young
filled the air.
surrounded,
engulfed.
memories of the old willow tree,
the green ferns. (oh how green they were)
fields of daisies and petunias.
an unexpected, yet beautiful pairing.
all of this,
these beautiful things,
swept away as if they never occurred.
never existed.
the sweet sounds of laughter replaced with
deafening cries for help.
the field mice who had once resided beneath a great oak
now ran for their lives.
how could this be?
a world once full of peace,
now a living hell?

life isn't always as it seems.
what we once thought was,
may turn into something
greater.
whats greater may not be good.
great can be evil, cruel.
lies lead downwards.
the greediness of man.
the owl is said to be wise,
is that always correct?

we cannot trust.
to trust means to love.
to respect.
when we trust,
this is what happens.
the willow tree burns,
field mice run,
and the birds,
the birds,
they weep.