Night’s Embrace

In twilight's grasp, a lark does sing its song,

As crimson skies doth bid the day adieu;

Yet evermore, I dream to play along

And mend the rift that seems to ever brew.

What balm emerges in the night's embrace,

When hearts doth yearn for love's undying fire;

And souls in search for light dost give them chase,

Awakening tender blooms of pure desire?

The crescent moon, one eye upon the world,

She proffers solace to the grieving heart;

As stars among the ether's canvas, whirled,

Illuminate the shadows, forming art.

In nighttime's canvas we do find our peace,

As lovers' whispers dance upon our ears.