I tell my stories under the humongous sky,
Where the setting sun sighs bliss,
And the wind brushes away my tears.
They say love comes in pinkish blooms,
But I found mine under the purple skies.
At the end of the veil,
The moon rises, its craters filled,
It fills in, the agony of the night,
Without the slightest plight.
I comply with the moon; perhaps,
I’m the mirror under the sunlight,
The sunflower in a field of roses,
Or the sparkle of a suncatcher.
For someday when the sun’s gloomy,
I sink in; amidst the chaos.
But for the beauty that unveils
The moon at midnight,
The twilight nights held my heart;
The fireflies of ecstasy.
But for the darkness, the moon pleads;
It needs a breather too!
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