Poem, Sagas, Scenic, Short story

Tomorrow to sleep.

The sun fades away from the world, to hide behind horizon and night.

The light to which all wake and greet leaving a void so vast behind.

And to this moment I step outside to the embrace of the dark of night, to gaze upon the naked moon and hear whispers from the stars.

Whispers so often lost in the shouting of the sun, a shouting always fading as it comes and goes.

For it is that dark which is eternal, those whispers which grow to nought.

But in the black as dark as pitch I will listen for that sound, and rest my eyes as sleep would fail me to the darkness what would come.

The whispers come and go just as the scream of dawn, yet come the dusk my eyes will rest and others will be gone.

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