I dreamt a dream of moonlight,
glittering and pale
A girl used to dance under the sun,
as her heart faded
she ran towards the moon
brushed her fingertips in the stardust.
I hear soft hands clap,
as voices sing a haunting melody
I think back to a girl with light footsteps,
a golden persona on stage,
a smile after.
I wonder if she was consumed
as the nights grew longer,
if she ever found the sun again.
Perhaps she found it in the stardust,
brushed off her fingertips.
A thousand deaths later,
a black swan emerged from the snow
feathers coated in a soft tinkling melody.
A cold night
waited for the sun to come again.
Ink coated her fingertips,
as I dream of the dawn,
the moon finding the sun one last time
together in the sky
for a moment.
— The End —