What is a pleasure
But a habit of acceptance.
I keep the stone of light
And give you my sunshine.
The stone of light
Needs to be rubbed
To glow,
Slowly I take it as my dutiful desire
To soothe the beauty in it.
The sunshine is too far away.
Nature doesn’t lose
Not even after I desire
The stone of light from you.
I do not wish that
The moon was like the sun.
The night is my resting color
With its dark trenches,
And unseen thorn in
A flower bouquet.
The stone of light
Does not take my night away.