The White Orb blossomed bright
through concealing clouds of covert cotton.
An artificial light
to guide the cool night breeze, once forgotten.
The Wind whispered with pain;
a prolonged silence followed her sigh.
The Ocean called her name
but in the treetops he heard her breath die.
The Wind was so wistful
as she voiced out to the vacant, void sea.
The Ocean stayed blissful
knowing that he will never cease to be
The Clouds shed tears of snow
brushing the leaves on their way to earth.
When the day breaks they must go;
the pure white tears melted by mirth.
The Stars sang to the Birds
'til they slept beneath the blanket of day.
They could never recall the words,
for when they tried, the night faded away.
The Moon meanwhile watched on,
knowing that he too must accept his plight.
So, the new day begun
as the burning Orange Orb blossomed bright.
No comments:
Post a Comment