Here my heart, rest your head,
the weariness of the eve, brings great dread.
Don't caress the darkness, my love;
for greatness shall be wrought, from the moon above.
Shall the light caress you, so;
may you never feel that dastardly low.
Hope that our heart's become one,
never to be broken, nothing unsaid, nor story left undone.
High moon calls upon us,
dawn will come soon, bringing the new day's lust.
Dear heart do not panic, my sweet;
for once the moon calls to us once more, we shall be.
Your presence no longer looming,
the purest feelings, only left blooming.
Call them what you will, shall they never be enough,
no name shall be in strength, never quite up to snuff.
My heart, writing to you in the darkest time of night,
I hope it makes your feelings light,
for there is no greater inspiration;
than finding the moon as our destination.
For once the darkness is not so terrible,
as it is more than reliable.
Look at the common stars and moon with me,
darling, no matter how far we stray, they will always accompany;
Til' the end, I wonder,
though there is much to ponder.
As you lay in another bed,
I know your heart is always led,
to the place where my heart sleeps.
The moon shall never weep,
as our secret keeper it shall be.
