Nights when the Sun bereaves The moon in between the graveyardshifts He is boundless enlightening her While her baits are never unleashed Moon,"A Midas touch, Burns who touches him as me. He's the Anno Domini worshipped, While I'm a mere eclipse. Perennially furious, I stare at him."
The moon hoards his strength and perquisites that she gives.
'When nights shall be drunk And souls be tumbling in revelry When the comic of roles end And cold shall be burning I await to call the utmost illegitimate side of us As my penchanted pleasure For you be semisane Caught half into adulthood and rest you know... Neither you nor me or they Be sceptical or carrying the peels of scruples Don't.
Much than the stars infatuate at nights Does her dark skin through the lattice of her top We bereave the nights Instead we sneak peak under the sun There ,she achieves utmost pitch in giggles I trail ,fall and then fail