Cry and cry, all were signs
We ran and ran, affecting the day not by its belly
But by its ears.
The moon, our worst enemy,
It deceived us, letting our babies to sleep
And then attacking us like a thief in the night.
We sang sweet songs, forcing our mouth,
But alas, it took decades to let her die temporarily.
Babies, oh babies! Where is thy glory.
Copyright © Sunday Kelvin | Year Posted 2017