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What I’ve written today
The Nature’s Of The Night
Constellations cast before a naked dawn weaving an thin inconsolable web of hollowed moonlight decadent yet heavy weighing itself over the cracked coarse crest of trampled dirt. Its weed filled wounds bandaged over by the bondage of a bountiful harvest of freshly grown passiveness, winsomely awoken by the fair weather woes of the ever winding wind. Sailing to the temperament of its own sighs longing for an undying voice venturing for an impenetrable answer to its waning call for eternal togetherness in the unmoving casket of earth.