Black eyelids of the night,
Sing their inward sleepy song,
To the ocean of silence far below,
Whose wavelets of dreams are a medicine to the past days wounds.
Nights brow is doted with dew,
Dew whose origin,
Same to that of crystal caves bright blue and purple lights,
Is a perfect reflection of the Earth's simplicity.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
Black eyelids of the night,
Sing their inward sleepy song,
To the ocean of silence far below,
Whose wavelets of dreams are a medicine to the past days wounds.
Nights brow is doted with dew,
Dew whose origin,
Same to that of crystal caves bright blue and purple lights,
Is a perfect reflection of the Earth's simplicity.
