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Dec 2020
It's how the moon injects colors into me,
into my old dying mind
Its blue, red, and green in my plasma
they sail and travel through my veins

Remarkable stars, they send my lost soul home
Home, that is my mortal frame,
home that is bound to earth
And so sound I laid
That I can finally get a grip

Sometimes the cloud comes too
Their cotton-like apparition
soft to the touch, overly-sensitive,
and inhumanly empathetic,
pouring down a rain
For it cried
So I don't have to cry alone

The night sky helps,
by wrapping me within its blanket of darkness,
lulling me to sleep to the song of the wolves,
blowing winds that rock the greens ever so gentle,
and therefore I know, when light has gone,
and the night has come,
I'm alive once more
Written by
Xant  20/F/Jakarta
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