• paradox__ 9w

    My roof is bathed in perfervid
    moonlight of melancholy tonight.
    Silhouette of mine imbrued on it
    makes me yearn for
    existence of those stars of peace.
    Traces of this companions of moon are
    vanished from my sky ages ago, in this
    constantly changing universe.
    Achromatic winds are holding
    Letter in its one hand having datum
    about extending of this hollowness inside
    me a little longer and
    with consolation to keep growing
    in this whiff of struggles in the other.
    But I feel like an expatriate here,
    In this moonlight.
    Maybe cuz I'm meant to be
    resident of those stars
    presently which are
    far, really far away from me.


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