(no subject)

[moonwise]

Their moon was cardboard, fragile.
It was very apt to fray.
And what was last night's scenic
May seem cynic by today.

The play's not done, oh no, not quite.
For life never ends in the moonlit night.
And despite what pretty poets say.
The night is only half the day.

So we would like to truly finish what was foolishly begun,
For the story is not ended and the play is never done,
Until we've all of us been burned a bit,
Burnished by the Sun.

Comments

[hidetomatsumoto.livejournal.com]

Poem (by whom?) or song lyrics? hmm...