The night descends, I seek the moon above,
That silver orb that watches where you sleep.
My soul is heavy with a longing love,
While vast horizons make the vigil keep.
This glass remains a cold and hollow friend,
A phantom image lacking vital breath.
I count the hours until the exile’s end,
A slow countdown that feels akin to death.
Yet in the void, I feel your spirit near,
A golden thread no distance can untie.
True love survives the silence and the fear,
Beneath the vault of one embracing sky.
Soon shall the miles dissolve like morning mist,
And hand in hand, our shadows shall be one.
By eternal joy and passion kist,
The waiting ends, our life has just begun.
Separation serves as a cruel test, yet it distills affection into its purest form. This verse speaks to the endurance of the human spirit, suggesting that while physical space may divide bodies, the architecture of love bridges any chasm, making the eventual reunion not just a meeting, but a resurrection.
