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MN Jun 2020
Is it dark enough to call it a night?
Or too early to ask you that?
The darkness holds skeletons in the cupboard
The stars feign their shine in grace
The moon narrates my unrequited love

Winter is it? Or metaphor of my life?
Cold is my soul lost at the Screaming Woods
I dream of sinking in Titanic
Will you rescue me from water and woods?
Soaked in sweat, I wake up in panic
Stretching my neck towards the sky
Out of the window
That is my eternal canvas
Where hopes and dreams and lies are
Scattered in nowhere of fair distances;
Couldn’t even remember the pieces

My metaphor of life,
An infinite projection of blithe
Rigid, cruel, lonely, faded
Yet the season of lights and love
My metaphor of winter is you
For the night sky holds all my secrets
All my love
And is all that I cherish
I’d steal the night sky for you but is it too early to tell you that?
Delta Swingline Apr 2017
It’s hard to believe that something shining so bright could be so far away from where we are. To think that something like the moon or the stars seems closer to us than it is. And we’ve been there, we’ve been to the moon. Isn’t that amazing? And yet we still look up at the dark night sky…

Looking for something...

What that is, I don’t know. But I guess you see something in that sky right? Whether or not you’re searching for something up there is up to you.

But hey, that sky looks amazing doesn’t it?

So maybe you’ve got a wish to throw up there along with the other shooting stars. And I wish you the best of luck with that.

So keep stargazing if you must, maybe a shooting star will appear for you. I hope it does. And hey, maybe something will happen up there, you just have to keep watching to find out. Thanks for finding my letter.

~Letter Writer
I haven't seen the stars for the longest time. Not even in Paris...

— The End —