Crescent Moon
Gazing at the sickle moon
Someday I will be a pale star -
A shining light in someone’s dream
Who possessed most of my dreams
I will be finally pain - free
Emptied of the earthly vanities
Of this sickening, corrupted world
With its immeasurable cruelties
Long before there were wars
There were living humans
Walking free in the green fields with
Fleeting blossoms of the trees
For thousand years they planted
Willow trees deep in the ground
at Easter spring time of their life
To give rebirth to the silent souls
The moon was a slender crescent
Over the green tree temples
I was falling into a heavy dream
That was my life final sleep
Copyright © Lidia Hristeva | Year Posted 2022
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