As the moon shines I see nothing,
No lights, no people, only darkness.
I wonder if I have become blind,
With eyes wide I stare.
I wish for light, but receive only shadows,
They tower over me and I fear,
Why has this happened? Is this a dream?
Nothing has ever terrified me more.
Through quaint eyes appears a figure,
Luminous
Have I awoken? Or is this still a dream?
I become frigid, stiffened with distress.
Alas, the sight becomes clearer,
Wider still my eyes unseal,
It is magnificent, beautiful, and breath-taking.
The sight is you.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 7:57 PM UTC
As the moon shines I see nothing,
No lights, no people, only darkness.
I wonder if I have become blind,
With eyes wide I stare.
I wish for light, but receive only shadows,
They tower over me and I fear,
Why has this happened? Is this a dream?
Nothing has ever terrified me more.
Through quaint eyes appears a figure,
Luminous
Have I awoken? Or is this still a dream?
I become frigid, stiffened with distress.
Alas, the sight becomes clearer,
Wider still my eyes unseal,
It is magnificent, beautiful, and breath-taking.
The sight is you.
Timothy N. Stacey (Oct 09)