Baskadia

How long has the moon shown?

Through the mist, she shines alone.

She smiles at miles and yet, I'm dazzled.

She's prone to lone yet, loves her castle.

I toast the moon and ponder alone.

When last has the dove flown?

Quiet, in the thicket, she perches alone.

Ye are sole but, loves thy throne.

Thy beauty in songs I yearn to hear.

They allege thy mildness can hurt a fly.

Contempt in facie curie!

They claim thy silence can quench a life.

Contempt ex facie curie!

They are allergic to beauty,

Jointly and severally are guilty.

Thou speaketh but, nay, aloud;

Aye! A noise without a sound.

Ye are dark but yet, are cute.

Skilled, the painter who coloured thy suit.

Fine water nymph! Spineless jellyfish!

Eighteen candles hath burnt, thy yearly feast!

Thy smiles are brief,

Quicker than a flash of light.

Thy temper a'swift,

Ablaze, albeit, pious; aright.

How long has the moon shown?

Through the mist, she shines alone.

She smiles at miles and yet, I'm dazzled.

She's prone to lone yet, loves her castle.

I toast the moon and ponder alone.