04 Wednesday Sep 2013
Posted in Poetry/Prose
Speak softly
The Sun is near
Dew drops misting the ground
Her dreams elude her
But she exhales
To and fro
Perhaps it is the want
Her will is not broken
Seemingly refined
Pressed forward on her course
His is all abandoned
The Moon will follow
Pic Art courtesy of http://viventomortus.deviantart.com/art/Sun-and-Moon-261988955
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