You’re not perfect,
And neither are you a miracle,
But you are not just another one,
Another angel to hide my sadness in.

Underneath the moon,
The wind asks me why,
Why do you wait?
And who do you wait for?

You’re not perfect,
You’re just another person,
Not blinded by Goddess’ anymore,
But you feel like some kind of miracle.

I stand underneath the moon yet again,
I ask her who she waits for.
Why does she wait?
For the sun is her constant reply.

So another day,
I stand looking upon myself and ask,
Why do you wait?
For the moon, the face of pale beauty,
But that is not why,
I have no reply,
And still another day,
Spent beneath the moon.

All days link,
Stars moving and me underneath,
With the stoic placid face,
I stare unmoved by the beauty.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s