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Will I go out like the sun
Yellow, orange, red, and pink
Burning until the end?
Or will I be like the moon
And quietly let the coming light
erase me from the sky?
6 lines, 302 days left.
Do you think the moon ever gets frustrated repeating the same phases over and over again?

Do you think the moon wishes to stay full?

Do you think on the days the moon is not full, it feels incomplete?

Do you think the moon ever feels lonely, missing the sun?

Do you think the moon stares at its reflection, criticizing every crater?

I wonder if the moon knows how beautiful it is.
I asked the moon this night
"Will everything is gonna be alright?"
I received no answer
Yet, it shined brighter
I guess, that is the answer
Soon, it'll all get better

― Mizuki
The full moon penetrated
His glint through my
Battered victorian
Sash window at twilight,
Whilst poem 52
Was made known
Unto me by Yeshua,
My Muse.

''Let not thy imagination
Run wild with idle theories
Echoed by voices of dubiety
Under the lawless one,
Hellbent on wounding
Me by making sin,
Man's daily bread''.

''Guard thy faith with
My scriptures, and lean
On scholars well learned in
Her near eastern culture
That their twisted Words,
Will take no effect on
you bewitched me
in all your wicked youth,
night-blooming lover with lips
curved like the moon.
we shiver,
you shatter all my mirrors.
i shall love you like none other.
Luisa 1d
Listening to the rain at night
Trying to fall asleep
Far to many thoughts in my head
Mostly dark & deep.

The wind is howling, like a wolf
Searching for her pack
Frustration builds, my skylight rattles
I roll over onto my back

La Luna shines from behind the clouds
That race across the skies
I pop the tablets in my mouth
And whisper my goodbyes
Mariazyka Feb 2019
whimsical hues
pretty pastels
dancing birds and
singing angels

mix of colors
the blues and pinks
mystic faces
our laughs and tears

look at the sky
stop the pretend
evermores too
come to an end

every minute
clouds are shrouding
and now you are

look at the sky
stop the pretend
evermores too
come to an end

the setting sun
seems to await
hanging around
for something great

there is no point
in her waiting
she herself knows
he's not coming

look at the sky
stop the pretend
evermores too
come to an end

the moon is late
the sun has set
he has appeared
but she has left

so came the dusk
starless somber
from serious vows
into strangers
The dreaded waiting game.
The crow and his burnt feathers,
His fading Iridescent luster
calls out for a life that at one point

He knew.

Lined with dark ash, covered
In rubies and gold.
Yet one look up above
One he could not obtain.

An illuminated lie in his dreaming state.

In stillness he stood
The ink that he bore
The scattered light he once held
soaking in his obsidian hues.

Things he could not take back
Things that he could not have

And all the questions he still had
could only be answered

By the moon.

I used to have a pet crow
I asked her, why?

Why she couldn't hold my gaze
Despite the indescribable connection we feel for one another.

And she told me
That we were like two sides of the moon
Always longing, but never meant to even see each other.

And nothing good would come from the fight to understand
The fight to see one another.

The fight to stay alive as two halves of each other.

For we do not complete us
We love so deeply we swallow ourselves whole
Trying so desperately to have more of what we cannot have.

We are two polarities
And we cannot co-exist together
Not like this.

I bid her farewell
Leaving her only in my thoughts and in the sky
That I often see her in.

The moon never seemed so dark as it rushed  to four quarters
Of what it used to be.

I love women <3
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