A Shadow under the moon

After the blinding sunshine, the screams of the fighters, the ceaseless hubbub of the city, I expect the evening, this particular time some call the twilight.

A sweet darkness invades the nature, the moon rises through the shadows to reach its zenith. The nature loses its forms for an Imaginary designed timidly under the white light.

For a brief moment, nothing emanates from black, no bird flies, no wind, no voices. A very small eternity suddenly bathed in the diaphanous light of the moon.
Then I guess the rustling leaves, the mussels sounds of animals, I hear the turbulent ride of the distant water on the rocks.

My skin tingles under the caress of the wind

I travel on the wings of time.

Khalysta Eryn Mîl

harp

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