When the sun sets in the west,
The colors run,
Like watercolor paint.
A cold goodbye from the sun.
As the moon rises in the east,
Who’s forever changing,
It’s second phase a grin,
One welcoming the night.
When the sun sets in the west,
The colors run,
Like watercolor paint.
A cold goodbye from the sun.
As the moon rises in the east,
Who’s forever changing,
It’s second phase a grin,
One welcoming the night.
Moving mountains,
Falling fountains,
Whispers of time,
And whatever is mine.
Holding power,
A complex shower,
Drawn to the sky,
A magnet within a sigh.
The gleam I know all too well,
With words to say, stories to tell.
Wrapping around me,
Rooted in denial,
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.