If the Sun and Moon
ever had the chance to love like us—
would they hug, or would they kiss,
and let their souls sew
Would they live,
or would they die a thousand times,
only to be reborn
in each other’s arms?
Would they fight over silly things—
the warmth, the dark,
the jealous stars?
Or would they laugh
until their hearts spilled constellations?
It's always a question,
always a thought
that lingers in the hush between dusk and dawn.
But one thing is certain:
If they ever had the chance...
For now,
their hug is the eclipse—
their kiss, sown in the light
the Sun spills across the sky.
The Sun’s death is painted in the evening—
the very golden hour
the Moon begins to rise.
And the one night
the Moon disappears—
is it searching
for the Sun?
The crescent, shy and veiled—
does it blush
in longing?
Two lovers,
worshipped by the world,
bathed in love,
touched by none.
No hate.
Yet never together.
Destiny and Fate—
a cruel play in the theater of romance.
Accidents—
the final curtain.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 7:31pm on Apr 24, 2025 via server WEBX1.