The Livings Poem by Anil Kumar Panda

As the day come to close
And the city gets washed
With colorful lights
The moon as the majestic
Queen appears to shine in
The darkening heights

People run back to their
Homes with aching limbs
And parched throats
Across a sea of darkness
The gorgeous moon smiles
And silently floats

The Night sings passionate
Songs of its own in a voice
Low and sweet
With the picture of a bright
Morn they snore in peace
Under the sheet