There is a certain addiction to my lonely, melancholy days.
A tranquility in walking beneath the light of the moon’s every phase.
Not that its light betrays my sorrow;
The darkness envelops me, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
But the sliver of silver, the pierce of the crescent,
The glittering half and the blazing whole, incandescent
Lights my heart on fire, sets my soul alive.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
There is a certain addiction to my lonely, melancholy days.
A tranquility in walking beneath the light of the moon’s every phase.
Not that its light betrays my sorrow;
The darkness envelops me, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
But the sliver of silver, the pierce of the crescent,
The glittering half and the blazing whole, incandescent
Lights my heart on fire, sets my soul alive.
