A lady comes at eventide,
On clouds through the countryside.
You cannot stop her, no one has tried.
Her name is night, the day has died.
She is the nocturnal shadow tide.
Her veil behind her souring, glides.
It spreads the night into the skies.
With the stars in sight, the day has died.
In pure silence she swiftly strides.
Across the moonlit forest floor she flies.
You cannot stop her, no one has tried.
Her name is night, the day has died.
OMG this is pure genius Chumble!
ReplyDeleteI LOVE it.
Thank you :D
ReplyDeleteWow, you are so amazing :)
ReplyDelete:D thank you!
ReplyDelete'Sweeping low,
ReplyDeletebreathing hot or chilly ice as she may choose,
the ethereal, the cover to the diamond moonbeams,
Hail ho! She descends,
Her name is Night and the day has died.'
Mehar, Love the way you project the tantalizing night as the goddess who speaks beware.
Love it!
Kudos! :)