Poem Under the Moon

In the noise of the insane and mundane world. Where do the lost souls and poets dwell? Those who dare to see and touch their dreams? What is is I truly seek? Eternal gold coins... or to feel her tender cheek. My words are magical when I speak.

A poet lost in a time when word and Rhyme are no longer noticed. So he cries alone under the moon beams, as the ghostly piano notes play melodies full of sorrowful memories...

Written in feather pen and inkwell was the legacy. I often used to dream of my love being true and eternal. But maybe this whole world and existence was always a lie. And it is why the lost souls cry for a better place to manifest... perhaps one day we can reach all our dreams...

Till then I sleep soundly on a cloud... and reach to the stars
for all my dreams to come true...

Alone I cry under the moon light...in the still of night
For I was always lost when I wrote this poem under the moon