Digital publication | Page 49

Moonlight

By Lauren S.

 

The moon’s breath pours out,

Like a silver stream,

Of warmth.

Stars dance in the stream

And I watch them.

 

Sometimes,

The stream feels warm,

And sometimes,

The stream feels cold,

And sometimes,

I drown.

 

People run.

People laugh.

People cry.

People scream,

All under the same moon.

 

The moon continues to pour its glimmering stream.

As it watches

Peace turn to

War,

Love turn to

Hate,

Because one moon,

Can’t abolish the darkness.

When the clouds blanket the moon’s light,

Rain is soon to come.

It brings dread with its droplets.

Each drop taps a shoulder

Of happiness,

And soaks it

In gloom.

The night feels like an echo

Without the moon.

It’s a hollow shell of what used to be here.

Until,

It returns.

And I drown in the stream of warmth.

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