Sitting under the adorable crystal moon.
The moon that bright my eyes,
With it’s serene white face.
Thinking about the one like it,
I wrinkle my forehead in thoughts,
This nostalgia brim my tears over,
But I keep myself strongly,
From breaking into full sobs.
I pretend, not to roll down tears,
For one having wolf’s heart.
Then I start walking in a daze,
All alone I start chasing that moon.
But it’s running so fast,
Like the speed of light,
And leaving me behind in darkness.
BY: FATIMA BATOOL