The silvers of moonlight escapes the empowering grasp of the darkened clouds,
Venturing through the realm of man with curiosity,
As I lay with my feet somewhat close to the open window,
Basking in the depth of the shimmering illusion of light.
In the middle of the night the winds of the North gusts,
Caressing the sleeping monkeys with its gentle hands,
Blowing each a goodnight kiss and bidding each a sweet dream,
I wish I was there.
Erratic Behaviour
No comments:
Post a Comment