Holding Hands
I love it; when day's done,
after twilight's begun:
and the sky's stained blood red,
where a dying sun bled.
And Sol dims, as His light
slowly sinks out of sight.
I love the twinkling stars
and reddish blush of Mars:
bats in flight, winds that blow,
and a pale moon's soft glow.
Ebony inks the sky,
signaling Night is nigh.
I love it; when the rain
cries in sync with my pain
and sheds tears just for me:
that everyone can see.
Drop by drop, tear by tear,
masking my inner fear.
I love the morning dew:
and holding hands with you.
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