When you see the moon at night,
So ravishingly bright,
What do you see ?
Do you see a figure standing alone in the darkness ?
Outshining the odds and defusing the brightness ?
Sometimes I wonder,
How alone the moon must've been feeling,
Turmoil its been facing,
Yet not complaining while you're gazing,
As if it made peace within,
The void it must be breathing in..
At some point,
It must've asked for help from the stars,
Expected a response for long to remove the tag of a loner,
And then gave up on the dreams,
Watching from a distance,
Its love, the earth, with wishful thinking of deference..
The scars on its face and heart,
As if it got burned from the fire of love,
But still at the evening's start,
It comes up to admire and goes down with memories,
How lonesome it must be feeling,
Bearing the darkness of its lover at one fortnight, and emanating the brightness filled with warmth at the other..
It moves in the sky with slow pace,
To make sure it captures the aesthetic beauty of its love, the earth, the base,
Its only mission is to admire,
The elegance which is hard wired.
Once a shooting star on the voyage,
Passed by the moon,
The Moon looked up to it with some hope,
But then realized,
That it's was wanderer just like itself,
Without any destination or scope..
Do you ever wonder.?
How lonesome he must be feeling.?
How lonesome he must be drilling.?
The sadness which must be killing,
The thought always remains enthralling.
