From The Moon

Boy sat upon the crescent moon and cast his line in the abyss.

He sighed and waited restlessly, and thought about the girl he missed.

But the girl she was so far away. He knew not where but memory played, and time and tide kept making waves – as he starred out from the moon that day.

She had curly hair, a pretty smile and dimples in her cheeks. So he longed to slow the shadow’s dial, as hours turned to days and weeks.

And the stars they thronged about the moon, it seemed for all eternity. “If stars are you and moon is me, i’m not what i’m supposed to be.”

“This rock is doomed and you burn bright – the lights that guide the way in night. If I am blind, you make me see. Hellfire seemed so heavenly.”

The boy lamented in this way, ’till days were night and nights were day. But not a sole passed by to stay, as she lay dreaming far away.

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