Friday, September 2, 2011

The Sun's Lullaby

"Goodnight, my poor child,
who suffers the sins
of disgusting men,
just to do it again
when my lover, the Moon,
rises once more;
My little moonchild,
when will you win?

But sleep, my beloved,
we can spend some more time
when your bones aren't so tired,
on the next cloudless day

And from up in the sky,
as I'm warming the earth,
I'll watch over you;
I'll be here when you wake"

Nestled in sheets,
by the calm morning light,
He's shining on me
as he sings me to sleep...

No comments:

Post a Comment