Baskadia

JUST THE MOON

That quiet stare, Those calm eyes. That cold warmth. Above in the sky high just sitting. A beauty in the cosmos. And ideal woman, my heart races. Like a rose with thorns My hands are far and can't have her. She adorns herself with stolen light, And like a mother makes sure to feed us. Who lets her children starve? But she quietly sits and exposes darkness. Across the lake and through the grass. Her yellow glow so refreshing. Casting shadows on the ships and boats. Unexplainable yet mesmerizing.