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smokeinatin:

The moon came to my window late in the evening. She heard me weeping in my pillow and asking myself why the world was so cruel. Her light blushed my cheeks and dried my eyes with her glimmer. She hummed “here here, child, listen to me,” and caressed my sobs in the dark.

She made me close my eyes as I listened to her lullaby:

     In the midst of the night, your eyes shall always close to the howling wolf
    Your cheeks will remain dry and your cries will be heard for I will be stood

    Towards the left of your ear, whistling fragments of little creaks streaming
    Into your veins, flowing through vessels, into your brain for dreaming
    Of cherished laughter and glowing nights, keeping you safe and warm
    You’ll fly with wings, be with birds that sing toward my light, you’ll soar
    Forever onward, my little one, no longer weep

    I’ll be here gleaming as your happily sleep

Her whispering words became my muse.

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