The moon.
It is beckoning me.
I can hear its voice calling for me,
begging me to stay.
It wants just one more night
but I must go.
The night is not like how it used to be,
the stars do not shine as bright
as they once did.
It saddens me.
The color is being stripped away.
The air is becoming thick.
Each day, the sun fades a little more.
The glimmer in my eye, it dims.
Everywhere I look I see ghosts,
I see shadows of objects
that no longer exist.
The world is dying.
I feel alone.
And yet, my mind is alive.
The thoughts race past,
one after the other,
even as the nights grow longer.
My dreams take flight.
Every time I move I dance.
I skip, I scream, I cry.
Never have I ever held onto a moment
as if it were tangible.
As if the seconds were not fleeting
but fragments,
snapshots stolen from time.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 12:52 AM UTC
The moon.
It is beckoning me.
I can hear its voice calling for me,
begging me to stay.
It wants just one more night
but I must go.
The night is not like how it used to be,
the stars do not shine as bright
as they once did.
It saddens me.
The color is being stripped away.
The air is becoming thick.
Each day, the sun fades a little more.
The glimmer in my eye, it dims.
Everywhere I look I see ghosts,
I see shadows of objects
that no longer exist.
The world is dying.
I feel alone.
And yet, my mind is alive.
The thoughts race past,
one after the other,
even as the nights grow longer.
My dreams take flight.
Every time I move I dance.
I skip, I scream, I cry.
Never have I ever held onto a moment
as if it were tangible.
As if the seconds were not fleeting
but fragments,
snapshots stolen from time.
