let us fly mid-air, and let this poem of us not be the last
through the tinges lit from the sky, mix of pink and purple stardust
and the mist of smokey dark
feel the rays of days and mystique magic of the night
with the moon hanging low and alone
constellations in sight,
we speak destined dreams
to be fulfilled and followed
Nov 23, 2025
Nov 23, 2025 at 7:47 AM UTC
let us fly mid-air, and let this poem of us not be the last
through the tinges lit from the sky, mix of pink and purple stardust
and the mist of smokey dark
feel the rays of days and mystique magic of the night
with the moon hanging low and alone
constellations in sight,
we speak destined dreams
to be fulfilled and followed
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