Untitled
A silver moon hangs overhead
In the fields the wet grass sings
And throughout the land of another’s hand
The sound of sunlight sings
It is dark today
Clouds distort the skies
But do not fear the shadows here
And do not suffer their lies
You hear a song of night’s end
You hear them whisper to the abyss
The morning will come soon, farewell to the moon
The night which none will miss
So let them speak
It is this that they believe
The golden face, the sun and space
For the future we shall grieve
Look up to the north
Walk past the golden fields
The deep blue stream, the eternal dream
And see what morning yields
- Tyler Dosaj