The golden light plays in her eyelashes
But gold itself for her is not precious
As she hates the selfish luxury of men.
She just likes how an old silver ring shines
And she tries to see the Moon in its lines.
She is singing to the Moon
And speaks to a river in the noon.
But in her heartache she can’t help crying,
Her voiceless cry is heard so far,
It is addressed to a lonely star.
She is dancing under the Moon,
And how happy she is if the rain is soon!
She never leaves the forest until it stops,
She shares her pain with the moonlight rain.
It sounds so sweet for her as it is her own name
She’s so in love with the Night
But her soul at times needs light.
And so she wants to embrace the Sun.
She never fears that as soon as it’s done
She will be forever gone.
My Sister
© Copyright: Демон Осени, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107101801790
Свидетельство о публикации №107101801790
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