Tug

The moon doesn't shine tonight
But i still feel her tug
Her pull

I hear the whisper of her song
Drifting serene on gentle winds

Too soft to know if it's a lullaby
Or a mournful dirge-
Its melancholy form
Barely ecking through a cloudy blanket

She tugs and pulls at my heart
She soothes its quiet aching

From the Author

Sorry about the impromptu hiatus, people! I’ll admit that I’ve barely written a thing lately due to time dilation issues.

I’ve always loved night and the moon. Everything is quieter at night, and I’ve always loved quiet.

This is a poem about night-therapy.

Published by The Poetry of Ants

I've been writing poetry since I was little. These poems have always been my means of resolving the world as it is against the world as it should be. Writing has been my great catharsis. I hope that you and I may be able to share in that.

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