And you, so flawless, night.
Morning hath taken you, you are broken.
The bleeding colors of the sun, ignite.
And such gorgeous surroundings; the moonlight,
Shall not be murmured until the moon is awoken.
The vigor colors shall dim, the sunset turning to blue and sparkled with white.
The owl of age shall take flight.
And the strange coos of the bird, misspoken.
The crossing of nightingales, for some, delight.
With the soft, sweet words, delight.
The sun arises, pulling away my love, most things left unspoken.
The unsaid words, on my heart, leaves frostbite.
So, my poor, tainted midnight, please reunite.
Because I strangely remember you calling, your hushed mutter, outspoken.
Roared over you, the morning, a senseless parasite!
And so, my dear night.
The morning fears you, its words are soft-spoken!
So conquer the morning, illuminate and recite.
Cover the break of dawn, with your lovely starlight.














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