Trying to light a candle
through the darkest of nights,
writing a love poem
in the middle of the fight.

The moon is drawn closer
to every foolish tears,
and the sound of silence
is now gone in a blink.

It is hard to hold you
forever in my arms,
but in every failure,
are the things we learned.

I might not forget you,
even the dawn is sunset again,
in the pale moonlit night,
you are my favorite kind of pain.