Monday, January 24, 2011


A night, where the moon shines so bright
when all seems so unbleached and right
Darkness covers the sky in a satin weave
an illusion meant only to deceive

Waiting for that shimmering light
which fortifies to render respite

It is but a matter of time
when things return to the dust and grime

And it begins all over again
a recurrence, to comprehend is truly inane.