___________________________________________________________________________

I am but a fickle heart longing to be fearless.



Monday, November 9, 2009

An Innocent Jealousy

The moon lay still
against his starlit quilt,
and on his face,
a forlorn look appeared.

The ground below lay silent,
no inch untouched
by his desolate light.

As he mournfully watched,
each blade of grass
shed a tear for the sleeping sun.

His cold grey face grew solemn,
as a innocent jealousy arose.

For each piercing drop of dew
in the corners of their eyes
bled dry his dignity.

“Oh! What grievance
do I merit,” said he,
“That the sun hold a
more noble rank in the heavens?”

“For we were made
but with one intention--
to illuminate each moment.
He to ignite the day,
and I to enliven the night.”

No comments:

Post a Comment