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Offering
Offering
Another night as oft descends,
As love ere me offends openly neath an errant moon,
That hopelessly gaze down on a whimpering fool,
For there is no escape of it,
For me or on that foreseeable floating orb so many points their fate,
Lest I find the strength to stir some surface dust on it,
Yet we are both remote in time and space,
And that I of insignificance had a gift with words speaketh the truth,
It would be called a tale, and I wouldst be as diminutive as ere,
Albeit, my friend as a wandering you go,
Make mention of my existence to the many like me below,
If we are so defenseless, how be it so our numbers grow strongly?
2020 February 20
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