” But my dear, if the dark sky isn’t there to weld,
Where will the sparkling stars be withheld? “
Glance at the dark sky having an awkward pitch-black look Moon is the white beauty of its own which by birth it took My dear, think if the sky at night isn’t that dark enough, How can it be signifying the moon’s elegant beauty though?
Stars glow with the distinct physique of their own The dark sky is infinite, deformed , no shape to own But my dear, if the dark sky isn’t there to weld, Where will the sparkling stars be withheld?
Look at the moon at a distance, so bright , perfectly round and lit Sky being so dark , non-uniform ,sick and unlit My dear, dare to look at them from proximity Into the hearts of both of them, be ready to face the reality
” Good old rabbit’s no more seen dwelling
Moon is being perceived opaque… “
Uneven crests surrounded with dust, stars and moon carry on with no potential, individuality to glow on their own Clear, dark sky involves itself in welcoming meteors, the shooting stars As the poor who dwells in content by lending at his best without counting numbers
Good old rabbit’s no more seen dwelling Moon is being perceived opaque as you observe it keen, senses welling Dark sky that seemed to be dreary with no sheen, Turns out to be the doorway for those stunning planets to be seen
Inviting others from the bottom of the heavenly, broad heart of its own, Eternal by lending others all it owns… The dark sky’s now lit With the perception you made from this writ
