The Waning Moon

Night arrive, the moon's grown old He shudder by obtrusive cold The wind sough through trees in sway Cluttered leaves on his way Shimmering moon to thy he cry Fallen tears that never dry A streak of light caress his face Trapped in here, this gloomy place You darkened soul, descend in agony Sudden mind of melancholy Shimmering moon to thy he cry Fallen tears that never dry