Harvest Moon

The lover of love was out tonight. She danced in the cloudful skies to the swing of stars. A full emobdiement of grace, as if grace herself gave her tierra for an evening. 

The hate of a thousand sorrows was weeping, and all the anger and anguish drifted to the bottom of humanity.

The shining light illuminated a smile, and my heart skipped at the sight of her orange glow.

The full moon. A spectacle in it of itself. A glorious evening. 

Tonight.

To day.

To mororow.

What is tomorrow, but only a shadow of a purity. A calm before a storm of titans. 

Will my evenings spend the few change in their pockets to gleam so brilliantly?

Forever ago, I will wait.