Nights when the Sun bereaves
The moon in between the graveyardshifts
He is boundless enlightening her
While her baits are never unleashed
Moon,"A Midas touch,
Burns who touches him as me.
He's the Anno Domini worshipped,
While I'm a mere eclipse.
Perennially furious,
I stare at him."
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 7:53 AM UTC
Nights when the Sun bereaves
The moon in between the graveyardshifts
He is boundless enlightening her
While her baits are never unleashed
Moon,"A Midas touch,
Burns who touches him as me.
He's the Anno Domini worshipped,
While I'm a mere eclipse.
Perennially furious,
I stare at him."
The moon hoards his strength and perquisites that she gives.
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