The moon is snugly nestled
in the nimbus of the night
refusing to be wrestled
from it’s dreams by pesky light
that pokes and prods insistently
with such transparent aims—
to rule the sky, if fleetingly
with fierce unyielding flames.
Are You Reading Me?
3 comments:
Ahhh... better to be a fleeting flame than never to have flamed at all. ;) I really like this!
I agree nice one! nice rhyming words
thanks!!
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