(untitled)#62

with the dawn fading

as all that burns bright dims – just

childhood memories

.

brightly twinkling stars

constellations in grasses

tread softly through heaven

.

in grasses I left

long may you burn firefly

a wasteland beacon

.

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The Darker

Photograph of the Moon through Pine trees at night

the moon through pine trees

In the sun you do not see me,
standing where your shadow falls
In the night you cannot hear me
although in silence blackness calls.
In the darkness, see the starlight
not visible in day
and in the realm of opal moonlight
rest you – by the window stay.
A fool is what people would call me
a master of deceit and lie
as real as your blackest nightmares
only gentler come whistling by.
In the breeze my weak flame sputters
casting dark, on dark, the night:
but in the gloom can stand Рaphotic
so that you can see the light.