The Moon
The Moon
She laughs from the roof of the earth
I see her as she stuck in the pellucid sky
No one is within her belly to walk and breathe
Besides stars, she looks debonair and gloomy
Moves slowly, mesmerizingly, she never knows death
But not resembles with the motherland, she lost the bly
Her face is different and life is not there, all are dead peth
Meteors, comets, and other celestial entity
They all might have been alive with oxygen beneath
Beneath the divine power, and forbidden to humanity
To ease life and to harvest on them who was sure for the dearth
We have not told about how they had looked before, nay.
Whatever the cause it would be, she is still in nature’s sheath
Tonight, the cloud is not around there, you can see it clearly
And the wind is whispering, stars resemble to enwreathe
Our solar system is flawless and we are to be happy.