up in the zenith,
the songs
of myriad hearts
shower down
as moonshine upon
the naked skin
of nocturnal beauty
spread over
miles and miles of
silent landscape,
dozing with a
unflickering smile
wet with the
rains of dreams.
In the dungeon
of a lover’s heart
the veil of darkness
is torn apart
as the soul dances
to the tune of
the singing skylarks
from the distant shores
of byegone seasons.
The Moonshine
starts singing
to break the silence
that had ruled
over the entire
valley of hearts
separated
long long ago.