The moon

The moon would cast a gentler hue

If owned by sadness, aye, I knew

Thus cradled in her waning breast

The darkness and the soft caress

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Of night and nightly yearnings through

her fervent gaze, cerulean blue

Forms deeper shadows across the lea

From sleepers hidden, nay, not me

For in her gaze, caught in a spell

There lost, for lost I seek to dwell