There are a lot of thoughts in my head, a lot of rhymes and reason that I can't put to bed. So I'm resting here and staring up at the sky and I can't help but think about you and I. Sometimes I go outside on cloudy nights, where the moon shines, and wonder, could I lasso that moon for you and I? Would you take me then?
Wrap me up in your arms and coat. Forget about the friends we've always been. Would you, could you let love in? Not tonight, my heart still says. And so it speaks, Dear Emma, just go to bed. Rest your eyes and escape to your dreams. Circle the earth, see the satellites and forget about how reality seems. But when my eyelids break and in the morn there is still so much at stake. Do I tell you how I feel? Do you know how this could be real?
Oh I confess, my weary heart is saying. Let the world know that I've been praying....that'd you'd love me just the same. So when the moon comes out at night, when the world is at peace and right. Those are the moments I think of us most. Maybe we could be an us an boast, like Cassiopeia among the stars, where true love could exist like ours.
Moonrise: an array of nocturnal radiance emerges.
Silver brilliance streaks across the Milky Way; wishes rise
And legends told from the readers of the wise
Cassiopeia beautifully boasts. Polaris diverges
to a path leading any wandering lover home. Found
beneath the invariable revolutions of a winding world. Spinning
eyes try and catch the speed of light beginning.
Beginning to end, ending to begin and unending round.
Eternity: a cycle of insanity – expecting
some different result when each is the same, and to find
a miracle in that each life is uniquely told.
And have again a baffling sky connecting
the star-crossed paths of love. Blind
to the rise and rest which brought them a hand to hold.
--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.
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