Restless nights

The skies comes alive at night to witness your sight.

Like a carpet refined by the night breeze,

it dips and swoops down from over the mountain.

It carries your every memory and every emotion.

Tethered by your smiles as it bears your sadness.

How sweet are the skies when you’re beneath it.

The tremours follows your dismay.

Hating your cries,

though the sparks of your tears causing the wind to blow restless.

Sweet soul makes darkness forgetful, and nightmares bring less tears.

Murdock
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