In the sky
as night passes
reflected dreams
swirling constellations
turn into bright colours
dying stars
we receive their light
upon the canvas above
In the sky
as night passes
reflected dreams
swirling constellations
turn into bright colours
dying stars
we receive their light
upon the canvas above
When I look out towards the hills
I feel a sense of loss
Abandoned places in ruin
A pathway leads
Towards the mountain
Where I will not follow
Hidden moon
cloudy sky
watching the night go by
My head is in the clouds
but I can still see
although there may be something
there waiting for me
but before I gaze aloft
and stand and stare
I wonder what lies over there
There, right there,
infront of me;
a sudden dart
and a worm.
the catch, the prize:
for me, as though it was…
he flew away
to return again.