A full moon that casts such a destructive illumination,

as to where the darkest of night ceases and dies,
there you will find no one, but the wind who can not see.

While its shrieks and cries tell a story of a thousand years,
the whispers dance away into a gradual end.
However, as one pines for it to be just another night,
A howl is heard, and the cold survives for another year.

The winter continues to move in degrees both warm and far,
like broken glass that conceals the ground, whose fate draws near.
Where others fail to see and falsely imagine,
it is just another night and the sun will dawn again.

Daylight indeed shines down onto this iconic world,
and the moon is now a thousand miles away.
Perhaps through the sunbeams lessons become answers,
The answers to the wind’s screams or space’s emptiness,
The answers to which all of life are awaiting,
and each detail is extracted from its warmth and rectifying glow.

At this point, an outstretched hand might bring it all in,
Please, before the moon returns within a month.
It seeks to put aside all that remains,
so caress the heavens while they implode,
and lock it away in your mind.
Time is ticking away,
but the abrasive clock will eventually disappear.
Now see for yourself,
For what is to come of tomorrow will turn into just another night,
and this time there surely will be no end in sight.