here I am writing for you my friend
spilling my feelings forward
wanting nothing more
nothing less than to hold you
under this moon.
The stars neither mock
nor envy this jealous moon.
Rather the sun asks questions
as to why it never sees you in the day light anymore.
Why its heart is hurting with those zealous eyes.
It is eager
for the obsession of lust
of compassion
of hope.
This is why the sun sees no more
because lust is a toy of the world
it is an overmastering desire
that cannot control itself.
Rather the moonlight looks at them with enthusiasm
with the colors of love painted before them.
It leads them down a path of immense color.
Showing the truth in what is real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem