The Dark

Clouds turns black, not plain nor blank In that dark, I looked up to the sky Saw the glittering stars, Not any out of sight Noble they all look, Every tick they spark. Twinkle, twinkle They all hail their moon When in place, No one cause them to mute Fashion of their light, makes me amuse Even when dim, Men trust their booth. Little I have seen, Take it for a sample Many hung dreams, No more hope to handle Stars that strives in struggles, Called it hustle Is it blacks haunting whites, The road we should paddle?