I sat on that old rock and spoke to the moon; There were stories to tell, ballads to sing, he was there, quietly listening. The choppy fluvials leapt with the winds, singing chorus to the birds as they passed by, flying.
There’s a lot to complain about, tonight; My words are tired of their plight. It’s foolish to think my words will ever reach you, in this world devoid of magic. Do you look at the skies? Who do you see when you lose yourself in those stars?
I’m rendered speechless; my nights are now dreamless and soul, restless like a horse running wild. Would you look at the skies?
Just for tonight?