In the flood of moonlight filtering in through the glass windows
Masked by the velvety drapes,
She watched her tug deftly at the strings of a harp
Striking chords woven to tell a tale
Of days that once were
Days they both had shared
Mapped in their minds like the back of their hands
Days spent flying on the swing in the yard
Legs extended to touch the creamy swirl of clouds
Splashing through puddles on a rainy day
Cold drops kissing the skin
********* the yellowing page of a book
Nestled in the maze of bookshelves
In a room kept cool to battle the summer heat
Lying underneath the shadows of the stars
Crafting stories culminating in illusions of exaggerations
That gave fuel to the never-ending war rooted deep in their hearts
Between fantasy and reality.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 10:41 AM UTC
In the flood of moonlight filtering in through the glass windows
Masked by the velvety drapes,
She watched her tug deftly at the strings of a harp
Striking chords woven to tell a tale
Of days that once were
Days they both had shared
Mapped in their minds like the back of their hands
Days spent flying on the swing in the yard
Legs extended to touch the creamy swirl of clouds
Splashing through puddles on a rainy day
Cold drops kissing the skin
********* the yellowing page of a book
Nestled in the maze of bookshelves
In a room kept cool to battle the summer heat
Lying underneath the shadows of the stars
Crafting stories culminating in illusions of exaggerations
That gave fuel to the never-ending war rooted deep in their hearts
Between fantasy and reality.