moonset

moonset

As to me, Youth
Was an dark age
 pathos in poverty
Like apples up the highland
Tinged red with dry winds
Not the blush of shyness
But a self-consciousness
As to love’s sublime
 
I don’t want to identify
A stereotype in your eye
The first half of the moon
Has gone out of its noon
In the wane of light
In the silence amid the chirping night
Do you see the uncindered glow of fire
 the unrequited desire
To love, even if to be annihilated
By the sun in the morning after
 
As long a child still there in your eye
Who never grow worldly with time
Still capable of having tears welling up
Without being ashamed
All the same
We never lose
What we never have got