Under the shadow of the Crescent Moon

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A crumb of moon
Hangs on the zenith
It’s faint light
Spreading like the
Ends of cloth
Rising with the wind
The waves try to catch
Unsuccessful they fall
Only to rise again.

She sulks to the
Tales told by the river
Her adventures traversing
Through nooks and crannies .

The river basks in glory
As the shadow of Luna
Fits perfectly to her waters,
She holds her breath
Not to disturb
Her Majesty’s peaceful recline.

Somewhere in the distance
Pulled by strings
Of unknown origin,
A girl emerges
Clutching her robes
Closer to herself.

She stares
As if in trance
At the White stone
Adorned by the night.

Wind caresses her face
Bringing a murmur
In alien tongue,
She lisps back
A song lullaby like
Drifts to her ears.

She fights the sentry of sleep
Waging wars with
Her eye lids
Until her eyes drooped
She looked longingly
At the sleeping child
Wishing to be with
That sweet thing
To hold her in
Her arms as
Any mother would .

She hung on
Till the morning sun
With his fiery glare
Banished her back
To a realm
Of loneliness.

©SV

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