The moon had its tears
with bleeding lunar craters,
When it is dark it glows
When it is full it mourns
Sometimes it stands alone,
aligned with a flock of clouds
It warns
The beams roam free, when it dangles the lunar craters,
It flees
The emptiness, the hallow and the spaciousness within soaks up the lights and the radiance of a burning sunny blaze.
To wrap, to carry to embrace the feathers of her grace.
It looks like one of those ''One Thousand and One Nights''. Good start! 😉
Hahaha, good one. Scheherazade knows it well 🤫
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