MyPoem@Random

...beloved, beloved, beloved Moon

Amata Luna, beloved moon

A song  within, among the gloom

A light to darkness

Though sometimes dim

Beloved, be loved, who loved the moon

*

Who makes it shine but the sun's own glow?

Who makes its beauty but its rock flaws?

Who makes it move but though it stays?

Who makes it be loved but those awake?

That's how the moon as white as snow

Brings life to night and night to grow

Sometimes it smiles or break the miles

When shadows gloom in all its sides 

That's when you see a writer's pen

Weaving words and phrases and verses to ken

That's when you see imaginations fly

All you have to do is catch its cry

Author's Note

I write poems not because I want to rhyme, sound good or seem like poetic. I write poems because there are things where stories are not enough to convey my thoughts. Where right grammar is not enough to really show how I feel. Where rules seems null and words just seem perfect to show things. Where the limit lies beyond the skies, and where a writer's inspiration really lies... :)