Fast like the falling leave in
razor like winter breeze,
falls the night sky.
Quickly flows in the night-
moving shadow flowers,
the crescent moon beams.
Everything I touch
with tenderness, alas,
colored by moon light.
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Writing, poetry and more writing.
Fast like the falling leave in
razor like winter breeze,
falls the night sky.
Quickly flows in the night-
moving shadow flowers,
the crescent moon beams.
Everything I touch
with tenderness, alas,
colored by moon light.
