The Midnight Maiden

Wind chimes glistening on the quartz shore, Washing fast, past raven doors, Gushing winds migrating to the north, Sway pearls of gold, back and forth. Like melodies sung on cherubs´ harp, I drift, as a gentle lark, into the eve of the night, fleeting, softly out of sight. My thoughts, they plunge into nights allure, Beneath the ephemeral moon, I gaze... into her phase, ivory pure, An end that came too soon… Compelling me to say au revoir, To her cloaked silhouette of pitch noire.